Exchanges
by b e f r e e
Summary: Ed complicates pretty much every mission that he's assigned to and some that he isn't. Despite that, he shares a mutual exchange of respect with his commanding officer. Slash. RoyxEd.
**A/N:** This is a bit of a rougher piece that's been oh-so-slowly coming together. It is not completely finished, not is it polished, but I have been chipping away at the idea for the better part of a year now and have reached the point at which any further work on this story will not be of an acceptable rating to post here. Please heed the rating. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist (or much of anything, for that matter).

It was blistering hot in Central when Ed's train returned from the East. It had been an awful trip back from the border of the desert and Ed in a particularly foul mood when he trampled into Mustang's office.

"Ah," Mustang finished signing his name and set the paper he was looking at aside. "How was your mission, Fullmetal?"

"It's in the report," Ed grunted out and threw the thin stack of papers on his desk before he collapsed into the couch opposite Mustang and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.

"Hm. Four pages?" He flipped it open and scanned through it. "I've had at least fourteen pages of report from others already about your damaging the town's water lines."

"It was poisoned. They have water again, and now it's not contaminated."

"And you felt that you needed to destroy their infrastructure?"

"I stayed and helped fix it. That guy you sent me to check out was bringing in 'miracle water' for anyone willing to pay for it. It was a 'miracle' he didn't poison that too. He ran, I caught him."

"'Temporary minor damage'?" Mustang read, glancing up at Ed skeptically. He was sprawled out on the couch, soaking up the cool air from Mustang's fan. "How does that say you blew it up?"

"Did I say I blew it up?"

"No, surprisingly, but one of the lieutenants that reported on your progress said so." Ed just scowled. "I suppose this will have to do, if barely," the Colonel flipped to the last page and signed it. "I want to discuss one thing before I get to your paycheck, though," Mustang said, and waited for Ed to look up at him before continuing. "I heard rumors that you took a room with a young girl while you were out East in Greenville?"

"Yeah?"

"And left on pretty bad terms?"

"Maybe."

"Would you like to explain why, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked.

"Didn't your lieutenant report that part to you?"

"Listen, I don't care what you do on your own time," Mustang said,voice lowering dangerously as he leaned forward across desk. "But you will not go around fraternizing with girls while you are on a mission. It is unacceptable."

"I never laid a finger on her and I never intended to," Ed scowled.

Mustang studied him for a long moment then leaned back in his chair. "Then we don't have any problems. Your paycheck and your next mission," he handed Ed an envelope. "Dismissed, Fullmetal."

* * *

The next few missions Ed went on were relatively short, and he didn't cause much major damage or lasting harm. When he returned from Aerugo, Ed stopped at an ice cream shop on the way up to Mustang's office and left a trail of sticky gooey dots on his carpet in the office.

"What are you eating? Throw it away," the Colonel frowned.

Ed ate the rest of the ice cream in one bite and tossed the paper cup. "Aerugo is really hot," he complained, licking the sticky off his fingers. "Could I go somewhere different this time?"

"Actually yes, you can. Let me see your report first," Mustang said. Ed pulled his fingers out of his mouth and wiped them off on his shirt before he handed over the report. "Three pages? This is pitiful."

"Three and a half."

"Five full pages minimum next time," Mustang scolded, scanning the papers. "He was taking bribes?"

"Yep. And from the people who were smuggling in counterfeit medicines."

"Counterfeit medicine? That's low, and pediatric medicines. Even worse," Mustang furrowed his brows as he read through the report. "Good work, horrible reporting. You do know what a check-in is, don't you?"

"I wasn't near any phone," Ed shrugged.

Mustang eyed him unamusedly for a moment before he signed the last page and let his hand linger over a folder. "Look, I wasn't sure if I should give this one to you or not, but I think you could probably shed the most light on what is going on," he handed over a file, which Ed started to skim over. "The girl you roomed with in Greenville, did she ever seem...unstable while you were with her? She called her brother a sinner and shot him in the middle of the street, in plain sight and daylight."

"Vince…" Ed's eyes widened, "Is he-?"

"A couple of onlookers took him to the doctor's house, but he was dead on arrival."

"No…"

Mustang gave him a few moments, mind whirring as he mentally backtracked to understand why Ed seemed so deeply affected by the news. He'd known that Ed was a very emotional person, but he had barely known these people, hadn't he? "I apologize. I didn't realize that you had become so close to those two. I will give the mission to another soldier."

"No," Ed's head snapped up, his eyes wet but determined. "I'll do it."

"Someone else can bring justice to her," the Colonel insisted gently. "You can take a research week."

"I'll see that she comes to justice myself," Ed said stubbornly.

Mustang weighed his options. "Two conditions," he said after a moment of thought. "I will personally accompany you, and I need to know what you did to piss that girl off."

Ed stood up and leaned over the desk. "I don't need a babysitter. I'll be on the nine o'clock train to East City," he said.

"I'll see you there."

Ed threw him a murderous glare and stormed out, leaving Mustang to ponder just what exactly his subordinate had done the last time he had visited Greenville. He had heard reports that Fullmetal had stayed with the girl Teresa and her brother Vince, and that the rumor around town was that he had gotten caught in a compromising position with the boy's sister. That made sense to the Colonel, as much as he didn't want to think about it, right up until the point that the sister called Vince a sinner and shot him.

Now, Mustang was just as clueless as to what had actually transpired and no closer to getting Ed to reveal the truth. He sighed and hurried to finish his paperwork and appease Hawkeye before he had to tell her that he was skipping out on his office duties for the next few days.

* * *

Ed didn't speak to Mustang for the entire seven hour train ride. He grunted his thanks when the Colonel gave him a bowl of soup for lunch at their layover and kept his nose in a book, pointedly ignoring his commanding officer for the remainder of the journey. When they finally disembarked at four in the afternoon, an hour's walk away from the town of Greenville, they stretched and set off immediately.

"His funeral is tomorrow," Mustang finally broke the silence as they walked. "Five o'clock, it's on the west side of town. Two other men and I will be keeping guard in case she comes back to town to attend. Hawkeye put a dress uniform for you in my suitcase this morning."

Ed didn't look up, but nodded. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Mustang tread carefully, "If you don't mind my asking, how did you become so close with those two in such a short amount of time?"

Ed kicked his feet a little, tensing up, but kept pace alongside his commanding officer. "We had a lot in common, that's all. Their mother died giving birth to Teresa, and their father had always been sick. He died when Vince was eleven and Teresa was nine. They took care of themselves after that."

"Do you think...was it guilt, that she thought she had killed her mother during childbirth, that may have made her lose balance?"

Ed shook his head slowly, "She was very religious. She never seemed literally crazy about it, she just prayed every day and read from her book at night."

"She called him a sinner. He must have done something awful to set her off."

"At least, something she thought was awful," Ed murmured, barely audible.

"There's no sign of tampering or forced entry. At least no one has looted the place," Mustang noted, checking the front door. He unlocked it with a key he had found under the doormat and they stepped inside cautiously.

"I'll check around upstairs, you check down here," Ed told him immediately.

Although a little ruffled from being told what to do by his subordinate, Mustang let him climb the stairs as he started to rifle through mail and books on the kitchen table. He came up with little to no helpful information.

Mustang started to make his way up the stairs but hesitated halfway. Fullmetal was curled up on the bed in the room ahead, clutching a pillow and sobbing silently into it. Mustang averted his eyes for a moment and considered leaving him alone, but his feet dragged him the rest of the way up and into the room- a man's room, Vince's room, he quickly realized- and over to sit down at the foot of the bed.

Fullmetal lay tense and shaking with the effort of quieting himself for a few long moments, but he broke out in gasping sobs that wracked his body. Mustang just lay a hand on his shoulder, wordlessly, until he had gotten it out of his system.

The two sat in silence, Mustang deep in thought, for a long time until Mustang gently urged that they needed to start getting ready if they were going to make it to the service on time. He saw Edward glance back as they left Vince's room and heave a steadying breath. Mustang subtly gave him a moment to collect himself before he led the way outside.

The funeral itself was uneventful save the fact the Edward had donned his uniform for the occasion. The entire town came out to watch them lower Vince's body into the ground at sunset, and although neighbors and friends took turns speaking, there was no family to say goodbye to him. Teresa did not appear at the burial, nor did she show up at the wake that the neighbors and clergyman had put together. Edward and the Colonel returned to their hotel rooms exhausted and out of leads.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Colonel," he returned, and saluted. Mustang was stunned for a moment by the picture of Edward Elric, in full military dress uniform, giving a proper salute to his commanding officer, even if there was a smirk on his face. Mustang laughed a little, and retired to his room.

He hung his jacket, pondering their current case. He had actually thought that there was some chance Teresa would show up tonight, perhaps in disguise or hanging far away from the crowd, but now Mustang was faced with the fact that he didn't actually know what the girl would do or where she would go next. A thump on the wall shook him out of his thoughts and he fingered the top button of his undershirt before he even considered-

Ed let the door close behind him and threw his hat on the dresser before he started to pull off the godforsaken uncomfortable dress pants. He threw those in a corner with the jacket and was halfway to the bathroom door before he realized that it was cracked open.

It only took a split-second between the moment Ed realized that the door had been wide open when he left and the moment that the door was swung open and the barrel of a gun pointed at his head. He took a quick two steps back and saw beyond the gun to the manic grin of his attacker.

"Teresa," Ed said slowly. "You don't want to hurt anyone."

"That's not true," her smile was wide and bitter and streaked with tears. "I do want to hurt you."

"You won't bring Vince back," Ed's mind was whirring, desperately trying to think of a way to disarm her, even as she took a step closer.

"Oh, I know it won't bring him back, but the least I can do is avenge his death."

"I didn't kill Vince," Ed took another step back, bumping the dresser and knocking his hat to the floor-that was it! This wall was shared with Mustang's room. Ed let his hand slip and 'accidenally' knocked the lamp against the wall.

"You did kill him," Teresa said, sobbing now, her face contorted in rage and laughter. "You killed Vince just like the butcher's son killed my father! His sickness started because he got involved with that filthy man. It may as well have been you who pulled that trigger."

"I would never have hurt Vince. I know you didn't mean to either. You loved him, Teresa. You loved your brother. A-and-" Ed struggled just as the hallway door burst open, and the moment that Teresa swung the gun towards the door, Ed managed to kick it across the room and haul the girl to the floor.

"Sinner!" Teresa shrieked. "You filthy disgusting sinner!"

Ed cuffed her wrists together and stood up straight. He finally looked over to where Mustang stood in the doorway, one glove on. "Thank you for the distraction. I had hoped you would hear me."

"Anytime," the Colonel answered.

"-Dirty, evil-!"

"Shut up," Mustang barked at the girl.

"-sinner! He's a sinner!"

"You know I'm not a particularly religious man, but I'd say that killing your own brother is much worse a sin than sharing a bed with another man."

Ed froze where he had been putting his boots back on. "I never said-"

"You didn't have to. Why don't you go get Lieutenant Browne and the local police, and I'll stay and watch over her."

Ed just swallowed and nodded.

* * *

"You're not this upset just because I'm not staying, are you, brother?"

"Sorry, Al, I just don't want to go to this meeting today."

"Oh, that's the budget meeting, right?"

"Yeah," Ed frowned. The brothers had stopped for an ice cream. "One, please."

"Which flavor?"

"Vanilla, please."

"Brother, leave a good tip."

"I always leave a good tip."

"Well, leave more," Al insisted.

"Ah-no, it's true, he's one of my best customers," the blonde boy behind the counter interjected helpfully.

"Have you been coming here a lot, Brother? I thought you said you were saving your money so that Winry could get something from Rush Valley?"

"She can still get her tools," Ed waved dismissively, stepping back out into the hot street and heading toward the train station. "She's going to need those to fix me up, anyways."

"That's not really the right way to look at it, but I guess as long as she's happy."

"If she isn't happy, she'll just beat me upside the head with the goddamn wrench I bought her." Ed grimaced. "How is Granny's new shed coming along, anyways?"

"Good," Al said excitedly. "We finished the root cellar before I came out here, and we're going to do the shed itself in a few days."

"Sorry I can't come help."

"No worries, Brother. You have enough going on already. Besides, the neighbor has been helping us too. Come and visit next time the Colonel gives you a break from missions," Al told him, as they neared the train station.

"Sure."

"And answer my letters this time."

"You know I'm' never around to pick them up," Ed shrugged.

"I'll tell Winry if you don't."

"Alright, alright, jeez."

The budget meeting didn't go as terribly as Ed had anticipated. Not only had he expected to be yelled at for being responsible for seventy-eight percent of the team's budget, but it was also the first time that Ed had to face Colonel Mustang since they had returned from Greenville.

"Next quarter, we're looking at a cut-back of seven percent, so we need to control out collateral damage," Mustang looked pointedly at Ed for a moment. "If anyone has any additional proposals, the deadline to submit it next Friday. Does anyone have anything else?" He looked around at the dead tired and bored faces of his team and even Hawkeye's blank stare, and sighed. "Fullmetal, I'd like a word. The rest of you are dismissed."

"Oh, thank god," Breda groaned.

"I need a cigarette," Havoc muttered.

Falman was the last out the door and shut it behind him, leaving Mustang and Ed alone.

"Come sit down," Mustang told him, going over to his desk.

"I'd rather not," Ed said stubbornly.

"Just sit," he sighed. Edward hesitated but reluctantly plopped down on the couch. "Look, I wanted to see how you were getting along this past week."

"Fine," Ed answered, tone clipped.

"I, well-I don't have another mission until the end of next week. You'll be on the train Saturday evening. Everything you need to know is in the file. Just a surveillance and report."

"Anything else?"

"Look, I know I'm not the first person you'd probably talk to, but since I already know about your...preferences, could you at least answer a few questions?" Ed just crossed his arms and kept his gaze steadily on the left leg of the desk, but Mustang plowed on anyways. "Vince, was he the first man you've-"

"Yes," Ed blurted it out more to stop him from talking than to actually answer.

Mustang had wanted to ask exactly what kind of first he'd been but refrained. "How long have you known?" At Ed's silence, he added, "That you were attracted to men."

"I don't know?" Ed put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"What do you mean-?"

"It means I don't fucking know, okay! I haven't even figured this out myself!" Ed stood up, shoving his folder into his jacket, flustered.

"Al doesn't know."

"No," Ed said, even though he knew Mustang wasn't really asking.

"Of course. Just let me know if you need-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Ed said tersely, and opened the door almost as quickly as it shut behind him.

"That went well," Mustang sighed to himself, picking up a pen.

* * *

"Hey, you're back!"

Ed shouldn't have been surprised that the cashier at the ice cream shop knew him now. "Yeah. Give me a vanilla - and have one yourself," Ed said, pushing more cash than was necessary over the counter toward the boy.

"Oh, you don't have to-" He shook a head full of blonde curls.

"Take it," he insisted. "Seriously."

The younger boy behind the counter looked out the back door suspiciously, as if his boss might walk in, but grinned and heaped up two paper cups. They sat down together and ate them outside on the steps.

"That guy in the armour isn't with you this time? He was pretty cool looking."

"Oh, that was my brother."

"Does he always wear that?"

"Yeah," Ed laughed. "He always wears it."

"You two must not be able to feel the heat. You're always wearing leather and he wears that heavy metal suit."

"He was in a bit of an alchemy accident, that's why he wears the suit."

"Oh. Wait, he's an alchemist?"

"Yes," Ed replied.

"Is he the Fullmetal Alchemist, by any chance? It would make sense, why he has that name."

Ed was a bit annoyed, but refrained from biting the boy's head off. "Al isn't Fullmetal, I am. Was. Whatever.

"You?" The boy blinked in confusion. "Not to be rude, but you don't look metal. And how old are you?"

"Sixteen," he responded gruffly.

"Oh. I'm twelve," the boy said simply. "My name is Hector, by the way."

"Ed," he returned.

"So...why do they call you Fullmetal if your brother is the one in the suit?"

"Metal leg," Ed said simply, tapping his knee.

"Whoa, really?" Hector reached over and poked at his leg, laughing when he tapped the knee. "That's so cool!"

Ed grimaced, but held back from telling him exactly how not-cool it was to lose two limbs. He was too young.

The moment Ed entered the lobby of headquarters, Mustang called him out and insisted that Ed go upstairs. "Now, Fullmetal!" He barked.

"What?"

"Follow me. Immediately," he ordered, and turned on his heel.

Ed stared after him, thrown off by his commanding officer's sudden and strange behavior, for a long moment before it occurred to him that following the Colonel was the best way to find out what was going on. Ed succeeded in catching him at the elevator and tried to ask, "What are you-?"

"My office." Mustang repeated sharply. Ed was baffled, and the Colonel didn't speak again until they got to his office.

Ed didn't even argue when Mustang gestured for him to sit on the couch, and only raised his brows when the door slammed shut and Mustang came in front of his desk to loom over him.

"Firstly, have you ever heard of discretion? I realize, Fullmetal, that you have no discretion when it comes to a mission, to fighting, but have you even considered applying it to your love life?"

"What love life?" Ed sputtered.

"I thought that you would have known that same-sex relationships are cause for immediate termination from the Military. Which means that you should be as discreet as possible in every way. While I can look the other way in some cases, and I won't lie, I have in the past, it is up to the soldier himself to protect his own interests in that matter."

"You're not making any fucking sense. He's dead, bastard."

"And," Mustang projected over him, "And even if it were an older man, provided that I knew you had fully consented, I might be able to still look the other way, but this-? How old is he, and when did you start talking to him?"

"Who the fuck are you talking about?"

"I saw the boy touching you. Blonde hair, curly."

"What boy-" Ed's mind reeled. "Wait-you thought that kid, that Hector was-"

"I saw it with my own eyes," Mustang frowned down at him.

"That was nothing inappropriate!"

"Nothing inappropriate?" He hissed, stepping forward and effectively trapping Ed on the couch below him. "So there's nothing inappropriate about this?" He grabbed Ed's thighs, and Ed pushed back against his chest with the full force of both arms, shoving Mustang back into his desk.

"Oh course that's fucking inappropriate!" Ed was standing now, screaming.

"What's so different, then?" He asked dangerously, regaining his footing.

"For one, I don't find a twelve year-old boy fucking attractive!" He snarled, flushing as soon as he realized what he had said. He kept screaming, though, even as he saw Mustang's eyes widen, in hopes that he could cover himself up. "I told him I had an automail fucking leg! There was nothing sexual about it at all and for the record," Ed poked an indignant finger in Mustang's chest, lowering his tone, "Just because I like men doesn't mean that I'm some kind of sexual deviant or a fucking pedophile!"

He stormed out without a dismissal or another word from his commanding officer.

* * *

Ed reveled in the silence of the library, counting down the last hours until he needed to be on a train bound for West City. The week had dragged on with only the slightest improvement in weather and no real work to be done. He spent the week researching his own projects and was actually quite content with the full book of notes and ideas he had drawn up. Ed sighed, flipping back to an equation he had jotted down on Tuesday when he heard someone approach.

"Edward, is that you?"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, what are you doing here?"

"I was just picking up something to read this weekend. Shouldn't you be leaving soon?"

"Yeah, I've got just a little bit before I need to head out."

Hawkeye nodded. "Ah. Do you mind if I sit down?" Ed shrugged. "Edward, do you have any idea why the Colonel has been so moody this past week?"

"No?" Ed's cheeks flushed.

"I thought it was odd, you know, that he deemed it necessary to personally accompany you to Greenville. But now he hasn't been acting right since you came back. I know you had another argument, but that's not unusual. Did something happen on that trip that may have thrown him off-balance?"

"Nothing notable," Ed answered shortly.

"Are you sure? He asked-" Ed glanced up at her, biting her lip oddly as she considered what she was about to say. "He asked me about something, something he said that he saw a long time ago."

"Okay?"

"The Colonel walked in on two fellow officers in a compromising position," she coughed a little. "Two male officers, according to his story. He asked me if he was right in ignoring the Military protocol which demands that he turn them in immediately for dishonorable discharge."

"That is..a strange question."

"I thought so too."

"And what did you tell him?"

She blinked. "I told him that not all rules are right."

Ed didn't respond.

"You don't think, for all his womanizing, that the Colone-?"

"I'm sorry," Ed interjected, just as the clock behind her struck five. "I really need to get to the train station."

"Right. Sorry," she stood up with him and helped him gather up his things.

"No, I'm sorry. I should be back by the end of next week. I'll see you then."

* * *

"Fullmetal, I could kill you." When Mustang received no response, he added, "Literally, I'm not just saying that."

"You can't do anything right now, and neither can I. Now stop talking think of a way out!" Ed scowled, even though he knew that Mustang couldn't see his face. They were tied to pillars in the center of a plain, otherwise empty room, both facing the wall away from the door. Mustang could see Ed's back, but Ed could only see the door. There were no windows, just a tile floor and a drop-ceiling like you'd see in a city office building. Pieces of Ed's automail leg were strewn across the floor. "Just a surveillance and report mission, huh?"

"That's what it was supposed to be!" Mustang insisted. "You never could make a mission easy, though, could you?"

"Shut up!" Ed roared, and Mustang let his head fall back against the pillar.

"Okay, okay. Look, at least tell me everything you managed to find out before they got you. We're going to go over this and figure out what to do."

"I don't know who it was I've been watching. All I know is that they have guns, trucks, and a lot of money. There are a few guards in civilian clothes who watch over every transaction from the alleys, but the only thing that ever trades hands seems to be money. There's never any goods given to the people paying - not when they pay, anyways."

"What kind of people are giving them money?"

"All types; a banker from right here in West City, a mayor from two towns over, a retired miner. I haven't found anything in common with them all."

Mustang sighed. "When you were captured, how did they do it?"

"Four guys, one at each limb. They attacked me in the street while I was eating lunch."

"Did they cover your eyes and mouth too?"

"Yeah. Someone's shirt, I think. They destroyed my leg immediately. I'm not sure if that was to prevent me from kicking them or a lucky guess. "

"If we could get out of these handcuffs, I could draw my seal and get us out of here."

"Do I look like a magician?"

Mustang growled in frustration and stared ahead at his subordinate. He looked like a mess is what he looked like. While Mustang had been captured quickly and hadn't reacted in time to put up any real fight, Ed looked like he had given them a run for their money. What was left of his automail was dangling limply from the socket, his shirt ripped down one side exposing a large portion of his torso, and blood flecked through his ponytail.

"Wait!"

"What, do I actually look like a magician to you? Are you hallucinating?"

"Yes! No-I mean, your hair-do you have a pin?"

"Shit," Ed, whose hands were cuffed behind his back, contorted his arm up and plucked the piece of metal from his hair.

"Yes! If I stretch out my leg, can you pass it behind you and I'll grab it with my feet?" Mustang started kicking off his boot.

"Yeah," Ed contorted himself to stick the hairpin between his toes.

Mustang watched in excitement and anxiety as Ed unfolded himself, bringing his foot behind him as far as he could extend it. Mustang carefully grabbed the hairpin out of Ed's toes with his own bare foot and just barely managed to get his foot up far enough to grab it in his hands.

"Yes! Okay, let's hope this works."

Ed listened to him fiddle around with the lock for a long minute. "What's the matter?"

"I'm not a fucking magician either. Give me a minute."

"You're really slow at this."

"I've never actually had to break into anything before," Mustang growled. "I'm not even sure-oh!" Ed heard the lock click. "Got it!"

Mustang quickly unlocked Ed's cuffs and they both pulled their boots (or boot, in Ed's case) on again. Mustang ripped down a ceiling tile and peered up into it.

"All the way in the corner," he said, pointing. "There's a ventilation duct."

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Ed detached the remaining automail and threw it in a pile on the floor. "Boost me up and then I'll pull you."

Mustang pushed Ed up with only a small amount of difficulty, and was slightly embarrassed at how easily Ed pulled him up with his newly regained and admittedly weaker arm only. They crawled to the end of the duct and Ed pushed out a grate that led straight to the roof.

"Hold on, I know where we are," Ed said, looking at a tower a few streets over. "There's an alleyway on the other side of his building. We can probably attract less attention there. We just need to watch for their guards. They look like regular civilians-no uniforms, no visible weapons."

"Right."

They climbed down with little issue, and Mustang was suddenly struck by how out-of-place Ed looked with a missing leg. They hadn't even decided which direction to go when Mustang saw a shadow coming around the corner of the alley and pushed Ed toward the wall.

"What are you-oh, shit!"

"That's the guards?"

"Looks like it. Two of them."

"Don't scream. Wrap your arms around my back," Mustang said. "Hide your face.

"What-?" Ed started to ask but Mustang had already pushed closer to Ed, bringing one knee up to pin him against the wall, effectively hiding Ed's missing lower extremity. He pushed a hand up into Ed's hair at the same time and pulled his ponytail out, messing up his hair and concealing his face, including the fact that Ed was a man.

As the two men approached, Mustang ducked his head and let it rest against Ed's neck. He looked up and around as the men passed, pretending to be annoyed that someone had interrupted them, and they shrugged and kept walking. Mustang repositioned himself so that they still wouldn't see Ed, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to pull him in close and hide his missing leg.

"Are they gone yet? Mustang asked quietly.

"No," Ed squeaked. There were a few quiet, awkward seconds in which neither breathed, then, "They're going around the corner...now," Ed sighed in relief and Mustang backed away slightly.

"Come on, let's get out of this place quick," He said, offering his shoulder to help Ed balance.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Edward huffed, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently on the carpet. He sat on a bench outside a meeting room in Headquarters, a crutch leaning on the wall behind him.

"Just be thankful you haven't had time to get your automail fixed, or else you would be expected to report in full dress."

"Dress? As in uniform," Ed seethed.

"Yes, as in uniform," Mustang mocked, but his tone remained serious. "You're now enlisted as an active and full-time member of this Military. Reporting in front of a panel of high-ranking Generals is an occasion on which even you would be expected to present yourself as your rank else be reported to your Quartermaster."

"It's a good thing I'm still broken then, isn't it," Ed said, as the door beside them opened.

"Colonel Mustang, Major Elric," the man said stiffly, "Ready for your report."

Mustang held the door open for Ed as he hobbled through, and they came to stand side-by-side in front of the table. They both saluted, Ed perhaps a bit sloppily with his crutch under his arm, and faced down the fifteen Senior officers.

"At ease, gentlemen," General Thompson said from his place in the middle of the table, and everyone settled. "I've gone over your field report, and I'm very concerned at the scale and criminality of the activity you were monitoring. Major Elric," the General focused on him, "You were sent on what appeared to be a simple surveillance and report, were you not?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me what you can, please."

"Yes. I arrived in West City on Friday night and scouted out the area of my target. I still had my suitcase with me, and I picked up a map from the train station so that I would look like a lost traveler and I surveyed the East, South, and West perimeters of the block. The next morning, I took a look at the North side and got a look at the roof from a nearby building. I immediately noticed a pattern to the traffic in and out of the place so I followed the path to the outskirts of the city, where I witnessed an exchange of money."

"And you are certain that you were not seen at this point?"

"I observed no indication that they were aware of my presence."

General Thompson nodded. "Continue."

"After that, I took a look at a couple of the other exchange locations, which are marked in the map that is included in the report. I was not witness to any other dealings at this time, but drop-offs. Cars, whose plates are also noted in the report, dropped off large sums of money at these locations, although they left no note or clues as to what they were buying."

"And how many days did you monitor these actions for?"

"Seven days, Sir."

"But you were captured on the seventh day, correct?"

"Yes. I was due to report back here to Central by Monday. I had called Colonel Mustang that morning to give a verbal report and told him that I would be on the next train. On my way back to the hotel, I was ambushed. I was close to the outskirts of the city when a guy put a rag to my face-must have been chloroform or something to knock me out. It caught me off guard," Ed admitted. "I tried to keep fighting them, but I couldn't focus much. They carried me by each limb and handcuffed my ankles so that they could throw me in the trunk. I don't remember much of anything until I woke up."

"You reported that you woke up in a basement, did you not?"

"Yes, it was cooler and darker. The ceiling was low. My leg had been detached. I wasn't down there for long, I don't think. I was put in the other room within the day, If I'm not mistaken. They used the chloroform again to transport me."

"Colonel Mustang, I believe this is where your side of the story starts?"

"Yes. When Major Elric didn't report back on the scheduled day, I assumed that he had found another lead after he had spoken to me. Upon calling his hotel, I was informed that he had not yet checked out and asked them to leave a message when he returned to call me."

"But Major Elric did not return your phone call?"

"No, General. The hotel staff did. They thought it was odd that he had not checked out or taken his luggage, but also had never returned to the room for the night. I called the local MPs to check the known locations of interest, but he was not reported to have been seen near any one of them."

"So you went to West City yourself," the General raised a brow. "That is an unusual course of action, Colonel Mustang."

"I had a gut feeling that my a member of my squadron was in danger."

"What an accurate gut," the man answered. "You were captured mere hours after arriving in West city, were you not?"

"Indeed. The circumstances were practically identical to those which Major Elric described, although I can't say I put up as much of a fight as he seemed to have."

"You awoke in a room with Major Elric," General Thompson said. "And managed to uncuff yourself?"

"Yes. Major Elric had a piece of metal I was able to use to uncuff us both."

"You just happened to have a piece of metal on you, Major?"

"A hairpin," Ed answered sheepishly.

"I see. And you escaped through the ductwork. You both reported that there were two guards in the alleyway, did you not? Did it occur to you to capture them for interrogation?"

"Major Elric was injured and I was not at full strength yet after the sedation. I would have been unwise to confront them at the time."

"And how did you escape their notice? Surely they didn't simply walk past a boy with a missing limb."

"I hid Major Elric's deficiencies from their view," Mustang answered shortly.

The General, however, didn't seem to accept this, "I do not understand how you could have hidden the lack of a leg."

Ed answered, reluctantly and with a reddening face, "Would you interrupt a busy couple in an alleyway?"

The General raised those bushy brows even further. "I suppose I would not. With your stature and hair, it would be a quick and safe disguise, albeit one which puts a Colonel and his Major in a very unusual position of intimacy," he raised his voice a bit accusingly at the end.

"It was the only thing I could think of in the limited time we had," Mustang said stonily. The officers all glanced at one another, but no one responded.

"Very well. We will be continuing our investigation, and we will be doing so with much more caution after last week's events. I thank you both for your time. Dismissed."

They saluted the room and exited to the hall. "Fullmetal," Mustang said, "I'm sorry, about what I insinuated when you left my office. I know you're not some creep."

Ed blinked, but he wasn't sure how to react. "Thanks?" He said uncertainly.

"I'm really impressed with how you handled the size comment in there, too," Mustang added, breaking the awkward air.

"Who are you calling short!?"

* * *

Ed shouldn't have been surprised when he was called back to General Thompson's office before his train left the next day.

"Major Elric," the man greeted. "At ease. Please sit."

"Yes, Sir," Ed took a seat and lay his crutch on the floor next to him.

"Do you have any idea why I've asked you to join me today?"

"No, Sir? I assume that it concerns yesterday's report."

"Kind of. One particular part of it, actually, which is a detail you both left out of your written reports." At Ed's blank stare, he clarified, "I am concerned that your superior officer thought to disguise you as-well, as a back-alley lay, to be quite frank. He holds quite some power over you, doesn't he?"

"He is my commanding officer, and he made a decision which got us out of the situation without risking any further confrontation," Ed told the General. "Are you suggesting that it was anything more than a diversionary tactic?"

"I am merely concerned for your well-being. Colonel Mustang fought very hard to get the Military to accept you in the first place, and has shown several times over that you are considered a special case, especially in his eyes. You cannot deny that the man lets you get away with anything you want. Your relationship seems to extend beyond what a normal Major shares with his Colonel."

Ed frowned. "If there is anything beyond camaraderie and rank between Colonel Mustang and I, it is only respect. He may let me get away with anything I want, as you say, but I believe he does so because he understands that at the end of the day, I still respect him as an officer, an intellectual, and as a fellow State Alchemist."

General Thompson raised those bushy eyebrows again. "Would you say you view him as a father figure, then?"

Ed's frown deepened. "I would not insult him by comparing him to my own father."

"I see. If you ever have an issue with him, do not hesitate to come to me," General Thompson said. "You are dismissed."

Ed managed another sloppy salute and hobbled out as quickly as he could.

* * *

Ed was in Resembool that night. Al was getting stronger by the day thanks to Granny's cooking and Winry's pushing him to be as active as possible. Ed noticed that he was still gaining weight at an incredible pace, and didn't seem to struggle even when they went upstairs for the night.

"Brother," Al asked, slipping under the covers, "Do you think, after I've gotten my strength back, that I should join the military with the Colonel?"

Ed sat up, alarmed. "Why do you want to join the military, Al?"

"Don't you think I just should, after everything Colonel Mustang has done for us?"

"You don't have to do that, Al. He doesn't expect it from you, and he'd probably be mad at you if you sidelined your research in order to work for the Military instead."

"I don't know how else I can show him how grateful I am?"

"You can crack the secrets of Alkahestry, Al. Mustang never mentioned anything about wanting you to enlist."

"I just feel like I should repay him somehow."

"Then travel, like you talked about. And while you travel, mention Mustang's name. When it comes time for Fuhrer Grumman to step down or kick it or whatever, you'll have helped Mustang's image. You know he'll make Fuhrer eventually."

"I could research and campaign for him at the same time," Al said slowly. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually."

"Of course not, it's my idea," Ed scoffed.

"Or course, Brother," Al laughed. "Hey, what happened with your leg and everything, anyways? You said Mustang rescued you? Is that why you haven't called him a bastard or anything today?"

Ed sighed. "I'll tell you when it isn't so late." Ed was certain, however, that he would not.

"Okay. Goodnight, Brother."

"Goodnight, Al." He said and slipped into sleep easily. He would not remember the next the morning, how his back hit a brick wall in dreams.

"If he hadn't damaged the port, it wouldn't have been so extensive, but it looks like they deliberately sabotaged the inner mechanisms," Winry was saying, fishing around in her toolbox. She snapped a socket into place and started to turn. "Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, I'm listening."

"You need to be careful, Ed!"

"Hey, I pay you, don't I?"

"Yeah, you're my best customer, but I could do without so much business, you know."

Ed watched her as she worked on the sensitive port, but didn't complain much. Winry must have thought he was being too quiet. "Is everything okay in Central, Ed?"

"Hm?" He glanced up and blinked. "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"You look like you've got something on your mind," Winry dropped the wrench and picked up a screwdriver.

"I'm fine. Hey, who is that?" A figure was walking up the drive, one hand shielding his face from the sun.

Winry jumped, hitting her arm off the table. "Ouch! Oh, I forgot!"

"What?" Ed watched her fly around the shop, tearing through toolboxes as she searched for something. Ed saw her grin in triumph as she found a tiny wrench and she fixed her hair in the polished plate of Ed's leg, sitting uselessly on the bench across the room his body. "Is he your date?" Ed asked slyly.

"No, he's a customer," Winry huffed, reddening. "He traded us lumber and paint for the new shed for some automail. And shut up!" she added, whacking him with the wrench as they went out to greet him.

"Jonathan," Winry smiled, stepping out of the shop.

"Good afternoon, Winry. And Edward?" he asked, extending a hand for a firm shake. Edward recognized the man's dark hair and boyish face, even after he hadn't seen him for many years. He was a farmer's son from a mile down the road, one whom Ed had seen occasionally in his childhood.

"Hello, Jonathan," he greeted. "It's good to see you again."

"And you. You've been gone a long time. You're a State Alchemist now, Winry tells me."

"Yeah. What are you doing now?"

"Well, I'm building my own house on the corner of Ma's farm right now. I'm still helping my parents out and someday I'll be taking over."

"Only you've got to be careful," Winry scolded. "Jonathan lost a finger building that house."

"Ah," he held up the hand with a missing, bandaged ring finger. "It could have been worse. And thankfully, I was able to trade you for your automail services," he smiled.

"Yes," she said. "We need to do your first fitting today! Ed, I know you need to get back to Central, but would you mind if-"

Ed held up a hand to stop her. "I'm in no hurry to get back, Winry. Besides, I'm starving. I'm going to go see what Granny has cooked up for lunch."

"Thank you, Ed."

"So, Winry seems to have taken a liking to that Jonathan, hasn't she?" Ed said casually, slipping into the kitchen the next morning for breakfast. Granny turned around from the stove with a plate of eggs and bacon.

"You don't seem very upset," she noted, studying him over her glasses.

"Why should I be upset? They get along well, and he seems like he's respectable enough."

"He is," Granny said simply. "Successful too."

Ed picked up his fork.

"I thought you'd be jealous," she said, after a few moments.

Ed just looked up. "I don't have any reason to be jealous," he told her honestly, surprising her, and shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Brother," Al asked, walking Ed back to the train station to return to Central. "You're really not upset that Winry has been talking to Jonathan?"

"You sound like Granny, Al." When his brother didn't seem to accept his answer, Ed sighed. "No, I'm not upset. I love Winry. I thought once that maybe I'd ask her to marry me some day, after you got your body back and everything, but she doesn't deserve that. She deserves someone who treat her like a husband is supposed to. that person just isn't me. Besides, my interests lay elsewhere."

Al's eyes brightened. "Oh? And where would that be, Brother?"

"Elsewhere," Ed repeated, frowning. Al just grinned widely.

"Well, you'll write me when you're in Central, won't you?"

"Of course, Al. I'll keep an eye out for any interesting books, too."

"You'd better. Although I don't think I'm going to understand how to sense energy until I visit Xing and learn from the Alkahestrists there. I've been doing the beginners exercises I learned from Mai, but I don't feel anything at all."

"You'll get it," Ed told him surely.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Ed," Riza Hawkeye greeted from behind her desk. "The Brigadier-General wasn't expecting you, was he?"

"Brigadier-General?" Ed's eyebrows rose. "They gave it to him, then?"

"Yes," Hawkeye smiled. "Go on in, he isn't doing anything productive anyways."

""When is he," Ed grinned. Mustang was, in fact having a very productive nap when Ed walked in, drooling on his calendar. "Brigadier-General Mustang," Ed said loudly, making the man groan and lift his head. "Long night?"

"Oh, it's you," Mustang let his head rest on his hand, one elbow leaning against the desk.

"Congratulations on drinking yourself stupid," Ed said, flopping down on the couch.

"Thank you. My wonderful comrades decided to take me out. Hawkeye didn't even stop them from feeding me drinks. She just made sure I got home okay."

"That was generous of her," Ed grinned.

"Ugh," Mustang eyed the garbage can beside his desk for a moment, looking pale, and took a few deep breaths. "Here," he tossed a mission file over the desk. "You'll figure it out."

"Research help?" Ed scoffed. "Did you forget, idiot? I can't do alchemy anymore."

"You're still a scientist. I'm certain that a week with your brain would do more for this team than a year with some of their senior researchers."

"Wow, I think that was actually a genuine compliment."

"Can I please go back to sleep, now?" Mustang groaned, letting his forehead hit the desk once more.

"I'll see you next week, Brigadier-General."

* * *

"What the fuck do people think is going on?" Ed stormed into Mustang's office on next Monday, waving a folder around like a weapon.

Mustang frowned, standing up and walking calmly over to close the door. "You've heard the rumors, then?"

"Yes, I've heard the fucking rumors. One of your sick disgusting old Generals invited me to his office to 'discuss the possibility of a promotion' too."

Mustang's head whipped around. "What?" he thundered. "Which one?"

"Major General Van Vorhis," Ed spat. "That ancient fucking lecherous-"

"What exactly did he say to you?"

"He caught the elevator as I was leaving, asked me if I was the Elric boy and told me that if I wanted to discuss the possibility of a promotion that he would be in the office until late all week."

"He's going to be alone in his office after-hours, then? I think I'll pay a visit."

"That old pervert will die of a heart attack if you burst in there with your gloves on."

"Good."

"Mustang," Ed frowned, lowering his tone. "I don't want this becoming more of a sensation than it already is. Thompson pulled me into his office the other day and questioned me."

"He questioned me too," Mustang replied, leaning against the front of his desk. "He seems to be under the impression that you are like a son to me."

"He said something similar to me," Ed admitted, face flushing at the awkward turn of conversation.

Mustang regarded him for a moment. "You'd have to be a child in order for me to think of you as a son, you know. I don't think you've been a child for a very long time, no matter what your age."

Ed kicked the carpet with a dirty boot, "I told him that I would never compare you to my father. Even you're a better man than that."

There was a long, uneasy pause before Mustang straightened up where he was standing and held out a hand for Ed's report, asking him silently to hand it over. He flipped to the back and scribbled a signature without reading a word of it.

"Those guys were a bunch of idiots," Ed told him without much venom, referring to the lab team.

"I know. That's why I sent you to help them."

"I...I drew a few transmutation circles," Ed looked down as he mumbled, embarrassed, "It's been a while, you know, and I got so caught up in it that I tried to activate one..."

Mustang lowered his eyes to the floor as well. "I'm sorry, Ed."

* * *

Ed left the train station and made a beeline straight for the dormitories, scowling. He had stopped at the Rush Valley Inn to check out that morning and the hospitality had informed him that one Riza Hawkeye needed him to call immediately. It had been a short and quiet phone call.

"Hawkeye?"

"Ed," she had sounded like her hand was muffling the mouthpiece. "General Thompson is doing an observation of Mustang today."

"Observation? Fuck, he's watching how I report to him, isn't he?"

"Yes. Please just-"

"I'll take care of it."

"Ed-" She had started, but Hawkeye hadn't been able to get another word in.

Ed entered his quarters and changed quickly, brushing out his hair and sweeping it back into a clean ponytail. He even swapped out his usual boots for clean ones and left his bag in the room, taking only the folder containing his report.

Hawkeye didn't seem to recognize him for a moment. She looked up absently when he entered the room. "Good a-afternoon," her eyes widened. "Major Elric."

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," Ed executed a perfect salute, to which she responded with nothing but slackjaw. Ed raised his brows.

"Brigadier-General Mustang was expecting you," she sputtered, still marveling at his immaculate appearance.

Ed smirked, and knocked on Mustang's door.

"Enter," Mustang called. Ed stepped in and met a similar expression of awe from both Mustang and General Thompson, who was standing behind the desk rifling through paperwork.

"Brigadier-General Mustang," Ed saluted. "General Thompson," he added. "Is now a good time?"

"Major Elric," the General returned.

Mustang finally returned his salute as well. "Major Elric. Yes-please sit down. General Thompson is simply observing today. I didn't expect you this early. Your train was only due to arrive twenty minutes ago."

"Yes, I came straight here. My report, Sir," Ed handed over the folder and he saw Mustang break a small grin as he accepted it. Ed waited for a few minutes while Mustang read through the five pages, pointedly ignoring General Thompson, who was now going back and forth between filing cabinets under the guise of sneaking glances at the two of them.

"No property damage this time," he noted, eyes flicking toward Thompson's turned back. "Keep that up, Major. You did note that there were several vehicles that appeared to be tailing the supply truck, and provided their plate numbers. Is this of significance?"

"As I explain later in the report, Sir, one of the vehicles I noticed matched the plate of a vehicle which I observed in a transaction in the West City mission last month."

Mustang looked up, furrowing his brow. "It could be related. We are still gathering intel on that operation. I'll inform the team of your findings." He skimmed through to the last page and signed his name, tossing the file aside. "Good work, Major. I have a small research assignment I'd like you to conduct next," he handed a new file over. "Please report back at 0900 hours next Monday."

"Yes, Sir."

"Dismissed, Major," Mustang stood, eyes raking over Ed's uniform as Ed saluted once more before he ducked out of Headquarters as quickly as possible.

* * *

"Edward," Ed looked up from his book at the quiet voice of his commanding officer. He glanced around, looking to see if Thompson or anyone else was with Mustang this evening. "I'm alone," he sighed, sliding into the chair across from the library table.

"You look like shit."

"I've had a shit week," Mustang responded. "I was due for an observation day, because of my promotion, but Thompson showed up Monday and hasn't left yet. Tomorrow is the last day, I think. God, I hope it's the last day," he groaned, setting his head in his hands. "I can't thank you enough for what you did on Monday."

"I figured that's why you gave me a fake research assignment and told me to scram for a week," Ed replied.

"Glad you got the message. Have you actually been in this library the whole time?"

"I've got to keep up appearances," he shrugged.

Mustang sighed again. "Yeah, don't we all."

"Thompson..." Ed started hesitantly, "He's looking for evidence that I am more than your subordinate?"

"Bingo," Mustang deadpanned. "What he should be doing is looking into Major General VanVorhis."

"You didn't-"

"Of course I didn't mention that," he rolled his eyes. "And VanVorhis isn't going to say anything ever again either if he knows what's best for him."

"You threatened him?" Ed sat up, glancing around the empty library. "You could face charges for that!"

"Like you've never threatened a superior officer?" Mustang scowled.

"That's different!" Ed insisted.

"How so? I outrank you and you've threatened me on countless occasions."

"Yeah, but I actually like you!" Ed realized belatedly what he'd said and added, "You just-you shouldn't be going around making enemies with your superiors."

"And you shouldn't say things which support Thompson's suspicions, like that you like me, or that you find me attractive, but sometimes we just can't help ourselves, can we?" Mustang caught his gaze and held it for a tense moment, watching with satisfaction as Ed's face reddened. "I'll see you on Monday," he finally stood up, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Thank you again, Ed."

* * *

On Monday, Ed reported back to Mustang's office. He was being assigned to review recent mission and intelligence reports to see if he could find a connection between the recent swell of criminal activity throughout the country and the warehouse in West City. "It's just a hunch," Mustang had told him.

Nonetheless, Ed had set up at the empty desk in Mustang's outer office, in the corner farthest from Hawkeye. The tabletop and the floor all around him were piled with files and pages of notepaper Ed had scribbled on.

"They say geniuses are always pretty crazy, don't they?" Feury had joked, coming back from lunch on Wednesday to find Ed laying on his back on the floor with his feet propped up on the chair. "Are you reading like that?"

"Yep," Ed answered simply.

Fuery had just shook his head and went back to his own desk to chat with Breda about the upcoming war games. Ed tried to go right back to his work, but now that he was distracted, he decided to take a break from reading reports and read the letter he had gotten from his brother earlier that morning instead.

Dear Ed,

I hope you aren't getting into too much trouble. I'm surprised you wrote to me so soon. I'm hoping to have all my strength back soon, and I've been working extra hard especially on my arms and chest since I'm walking and running well now. I'm hoping to start traveling by the end of the year. Maybe I can visit you in Central soon.

Winry has been really busy lately, and when she isn't working on automail, she's been helping Jonathan with building his house. If he keeps making a much progress as he has been lately, he might be done by spring. If so, I think he will ask Winry to move in with him! He has been coming to dinner for months now, and even Granny likes him. Granny even said she thinks they should get married!

Anyways, send me more books if you find anything interesting, and please be careful! Promise me you'll write back soon,

Love,

Al

Ed folded the letter back up and promised Al silently that he would write a letter back before the week was over.

Ed wasn't used to being in the office, and he certainly wasn't used to having such a large amount of day-to-day contact with Mustang. Ed alternated between long hours of focus in which he barely even glanced away from the reports in front of him, to even longer hours of distraction.

On Thursday afternoon, Ed was frustrated at his lack of findings and distracted by Mustang constantly walking in and out of his office for meetings and phone calls. Ed was just beginning to concentrate again when Mustang came striding back in, sparing only the shortest glance at Ed's mountain of files. Ed's eyes followed his form until the door shut, then dropped back to the paper he was reading. He tried several times consecutively to read the first paragraph and when he finally managed to make out the words 'for impersonation of a Military officer, misrepresentation of government taxation...' Ed realized that he had already gone through the report twice and threw it down into the pile it belonged.

"I'm going out for a bit," he told Hawkeye, and picked up his jacket, shrugging it on even though he knew it was still sweltering out.

Ed started walking without any real direction, but his feet quickly steered him in the direction of the ice cream shop, where he was not greeted to the familiar face of the boy he had come to know, but by an older man with a beard that was long enough to touch his protruding stomach over which his too-small apron was stretched tight.

"One vanilla," Ed said, pushing the cash across the counter. He watched the man scoop it out for him. "Is the kid off today?"

"Actually," the man frowned. "Hector didn't show up."

"Oh?" Ed took his paper cup.

"It isn't like him, actually. Hector always comes to work, no matter what. His mother told me he left at the usual time this morning and said he was coming here, but I haven't seen any sign of him. Here's your change," the man added, holding out a hand.

"Keep it," Ed waved, and made his way back to the office.

That evening, Ed still hadn't made any sense of the swell in criminal activity, but since Mustang had gone home for the day he was able to focus and read again. Ed was so absorbed in the work that he didn't look up again until it was nearly dark outside. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was after seven. Ed blinked his dry eyes a few times and glanced outside, where he could just barely see the empty courtyard in front of the building. Of course there wouldn't be anyone else there at such a late hour, except, Ed narrowed his eyes, there was. He followed the movement of a military jacket, catching the gold trim and thought for a moment that it was Mustang, but then he realized that it was someone older. Much older. He caught a glimpse of a face as the man looked around and set off up the sidewalk. It was dark, and he was far away, but Ed was pretty sure that it was Major General VanVorhis, and he didn't look like he wanted to be seen.

Ed left quickly, practically falling down the stairs and slipped out of the building and down the street where he'd seen VanVorhis. After about ten blocks, Ed thought that he's lost him, but he caught the slightest movement from an alley on his left and ducked around the corner, unsure if it was even the Major General or simply a stray cat.

Ed stayed quiet nonetheless, and he heard what sounded like the door to a vehicle open and close before he heard voice. "Good evening. We have confirmed collection of your payment. Where would you like your delivery, Sir?" the voice was rough, but cocky.

"91 South Central Avenue. 503, top floor. Someone will be there to receive him.

Alarms went off in Ed's mind at the way VanVorhis had worded that, 'him', but he kept still and silent for another moment.

"Sometime tomorrow, then."

Ed sensed that the conversation was over and fled quickly, throwing himself under a car across the street and lying flat until he heard Van Vorhis' footsteps come closer, hesitate, then start to fade just as the truck in the alley started up and backed out, coming so close to Ed's hiding spot that he fought not to cough on the exhaust fumes. Ed let the truck start to pull away before he wiggled his way out from under the car and took note of the plate number on the back of the truck as it approached the intersection. Ed memorized it quickly but his eyes caught something in the back window above the plate that was much more important- the top of a head. A head of curly blonde hair that was shaking furiously as a fist pounded on the tiny pane of glass.

"Mustang! Come on, old man! Open the fuck up!" Ed pounded on the door. He was just glancing around for another entrance when Mustang threw the door open, looking alarmed.

"What are you doing?" He grabbed Ed's shoulder and practically threw him inside. "You can't be here-"

"It's Van Vorhis!" Ed interrupted. He realized, absently, that Mustang was hardly dressed although he had thrown a robe on to answer the door.

"What did he-?" Mustang's eyes went cold, looking over Ed's person as he drew his own conclusions.

"Not me, I'm fine. I saw Van Vorhis leaving headquarters not even an hour ago, so I followed him. He was meeting up with some guy about a delivery. Van Vorhis is more of a fucking creep than we gave him credit for."

"Deliver-?"

"I saw the truck, there was a kid in the back-Hector." Ed didn't bother explaining who he was when he saw recognition in Mustang's face. "I went to the shop earlier today and his boss said he hadn't shown up for work. I'm pretty sure Hector is the delivery."

"Where." It wasn't even a question, it was a demand.

"91 South Central Avenue. It's an apartment. 503. He said someone would be waiting."

"Let me make a few calls, we're going to set up surveillance on that apartment immediately. We can't just barge in, we need to catch these guys fair and square," Mustang said, going for the phone. Ed could do nothing but nod.

* * *

It was a long morning, but Ed waited with Mustang, Hawkeye, Breda, and Falman across the street from the apartment building on Central Avenue. "This sucks," Ed huffed. "Can't we just break down the door?"

"We have teams at three other locations, Fullmetal. The moment we see activity, we will barge in. We need to get eyes on Hector first. If we go in too early, we could scare off the people who have him. If we don't get anything to go on, we still have no clue where your friend is."

Ed groaned in frustration, but he couldn't argue with the logic.

"I still don't know what made you follow him," Mustang added, a hint of anger in his voice. "You knew he was a creep, why would you follow him into a dark alley?"

"I can defend myself from a geezer," Ed crossed his arms, but Mustang didn't look very happy. "Look, I saw him and he looked shady so I followed him on a hunch. I've been the office all week looking for a connection between cases because you had a -"

"Ed?" Mustang furrowed his brows, but Ed was staring right through him, his expression blank as he worked something through his mind. "What is it?"

"They're the same people."

"What?"

"The same people!" Ed shouted.

Mustang shook his head. "I don't-Be quiet, we're on a mission."

"The cases. That medicine, remember? They took pediatric medicines and switched them out for some counterfeit junk. A lot of the real medicine was never recovered. Two months ago, Second Lieutenant Hamilton had a mission up north to find a missing kid. The body turned up two weeks after he got there, only the kid had just died within the day and he was found near the border of Aerugo. The one truck that was following the supply truck and was the same one I saw in West City. That's a long ways away. When I was in West City, I remembered that someone reported a missing daughter and two days later another kid from the opposite side of the city disappeared. What if the people who were making payment to those guys in West City-the banker, mayor, the old guy-What if they-It's like some sort of sick trafficking ring. What if they picked me up in West City because they didn't realize I was Military. What if they thought-?"

There was a heavy quiet as the pieces came together in their heads and Ed watched Mustang's face turn from disgust to full out silent rage. Hawkeye was the first to react, laying a hand on Ed's shoulder. "Ed-"

"Hey!" Falman interrupted, picking up the binoculars. "We've got movement."

The truck which had backed into the alley of the building didn't look out of place. It also wasn't the truck Ed had seen the night before, but the logo for the furniture maker that was painted on the side looked fresh and no one in the room had ever heard of the business.

"He's in that couch, isn't he?" Ed heard Havoc murmur.

"We're going to take position on the street. Falman, we need your eyes up here. The rest of you with me." Mustang tossed Falman a walkie-talkie. "We'll wait for your word."

When Falman's voice told them to move, they moved quickly through the front doors of the building, the other three teams of soldiers following closely behind. They split up to cover both stairwells and Mustang's squadron was first to reach the top. When Ed kicked in the door, the couch was sitting in the middle of the room and the two men were kneeling down in front of it.

"Nobody move!" Mustang roared, assessing the room. A small Xingese woman was shaking in the corner. "Stand up," he instructed the men, "Against the wall." They obeyed, and were quickly cuffed. "You too," he shot at the woman in the corner, but she didn't move. "Against the wall!"

She just cried.

"I don't think she understands you," Hawkeye said quietly. "She's no threat. I'll take her outside."

Mustang nodded. "Havoc, Breda, you two take them out," he ordered, motioning toward the men against the wall as he stepped toward the couch. Ed tore the padding off a wooden frame and pried open what looked like a crude coffin underneath.

"He's unconscious," Mustang breathed, as soon as he saw the boy's lank body and slack face. "He's breathing, though."

"He isn't Hector," Ed said hollowly, staring at the boy's pale face and short brown hair.

Mustang frowned and put a couple of fingers at his wrist. "His pulse is normal. They've just knocked him out. Come on, let's get him to the medics so they can check him over. We'll find Hector too."

Ed picked him up easily, and they left the apartment with one last sweeping glance.

While Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Mustang questioned the men they had apprehended, Fuery had accompanied Hector to the hospital and Ed was trying to make sense of what Ju, the Xingese woman, was sobbing as Hawkeye comforted her.

"Bad men?" Ed pointed in the direction of the room in which the two were being held.

She nodded, and Ed caught snippets of familiar words in her reply. "Didn't know. Was hired...care of child…" Ed didn't understand most of the rest of it, only what he thought meant "learned" and assumed to mean that she was referring to when she learned that the kid was, in fact, kidnapped.

"I don't think she had a clue. How did you come here?" he asked, his rough accent tainting the language, even to his untrained ears.

"He gave money. Took train. Was to work in care of child…" Ed's translation failed a little, but he picked up that she had met her employer at hotel. "Offer of work to him," she said next. "No wanting."

"Work?"

Ju bit her lip, tears falling. "Work at the hotel?"

She shook her head. "Work…" she said a word Ed didn't know. "Money for-" she repeated another word Ed didn't know.

"She was a prostitute," Ed told Hawkeye finally. "He wasn't interested in what she had to offer, so he hired her to take care of that kid."

"See if she can tell you where he came from."

"She thought it was his own child." Ed shook his head, sighing. "Do you want to go home?" he asked. Ju sobbed harder and nodded.

"Please! I want to see family."

"Ling Yao is a friend. He will help you find your family and find work. A job."

Mustang came in for a summary of what Ed had found out, and expressed his approval. "Good. She doesn't need to be charged. Good work, Ed," he said, clapping on hand down on his shoulder. "I never realized you knew Xingese."

"Picked a little up with Ling around," Ed shrugged. "I'm not very fluent, believe me."

"Find her some accommodations for tonight and we'll get her home as soon as possible" Mustang told Hawkeye before he left.

"We will get you a room. To sleep tonight. You can go home after." Ed told the woman.

"Thank you much! She is such nice woman and you are good man. Your-" she said a word that Ed assumed translated to boss, "too. Very handsome.

"That's great," Ed rolled his eyes.

* * *

Ju identified a picture of Major General VanVorhis as the man who had hired her, and after a visit to the shocked MPs, Edward had the pleasure of going with them to apprehend the man. Ed and Mustang walked on each side of Ju and they were escorted by six MPs up to VanVorhis' office, turning heads and causing whispers the entire way.

"Major General VanVorhis," one of the MPs said, stopping at his open door as his crowded office stopped working to gawk.

"Yes?" He stood up from his desk, his brow furrowed until he caught sight of Ju's face. He snapped his attention instead to Ed, eyes furious. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Ju, is this the man who hired you?" the MP asked.

Ed translated quietly.

"Yes," she answered surely and in English. "It is him."

The MP stepped forward, closely flanked by three of his men. "Major General Van Vorhis, you are under arrest for suspicion of child sex trafficking and slavery."

Ed watched with satisfaction as he was cuffed and lead from the room. "Thank you, Ju. You were brave," he told her.

"You are good man, Edward. Thank you. And handsome boss."

* * *

Mustang had praised Ed for his quick thinking and for putting together the details of Van Vorhis' arrest, but when Ed returned to his office only days later to receive his next mission, Mustang was cold and clipped.

"Major Elric," he looked up, face impassive as he handed over the file. "Everything you need to know is in there."

Ed, who had barely even gotten in the door yet and hadn't even sat down, frowned. "Okay," he said slowly.

"If you have any questions, call Lieutenant Hawkeye. You are dismissed."

Ed, however, didn't leave right away. "Wait, what about the stuff in West City?"

"It is still under investigation, and the warehouse will be investigated by another team. Dismissed," he repeated.

Ed frowned, but turned on his heel and walked out with little more than a muttered, "Bastard."

* * *

When he returned three weeks later, Ed had dismissed Mustang's previous behavior as a bad day, but when he returned to give his report he found that his superior officer was just as close-faced. Hawkeye, the only other person in the office, handed him a letter from Al, smiled and told him to go ahead in.

"Mustang," he greeted, strolling in and plopping down on the sofa. Ed dropped his suitcase on the floor.

"Major Elric," he returned, and the tone made Ed look up from where he was digging through the bag for his report.

"What's with you?"

Mustang only raised a brow. "Do you have your report?" he asked curtly.

Ed scowled, pulling it out and shoving it across the desk messily. "Here ya go."

Mustang didn't even open it. "Thank you," he said, far from warmly. "Your next assignment," he handed over another file, which Ed opened and scanned through in seconds.

"Two months?" Ed asked, voice dangerously quiet. "I just returned from a three-week mission."

"Are you refusing?"

"What? I-No. What's with you, Bastard?"

"Brigadier-General," Mustang corrected. "That's my title," he added, at Ed's open jaw. "And you will use it."

"Fuck you! I'll gladly go to Briggs for two months if you're going to act like a jackass! You want me to go far away, I'll go far away." Ed grabbed his bag and slammed the door on his way out, not even acknowledging Hawkeye as he passed. Ed huffed all the way down the hall and was almost to the elevator when he realized that he had left Al's letter. He hesitated a moment, not wanting to return, but thought better of it and circled back around to Mustang's office. Ed stopped with his hand on the doorknob, however, when he heard Hawkeye's voice.

Ed had heard her chastise Mustang before and he'd heard her yell, although mostly at Black Hayate, but he had never heard her this angry.

"-never even think that it could upset him?" Hawkeye said. Mustang's reply couldn't be heard. "For the best? You think that treating him like this is for the best? You aren't anything like Van Vorhis, Roy. He might be young, but he is not a child and you have never treated him as one before. I know that his age is not the reason you-"

"He's sixteen!" Mustang yelled back. "I know that his intelligence and everything he's been through makes him seem older and he is certainly far from a child, but he is still only sixteen and he is my subordinate! I cannot see how you could possibly encourage-"

"You didn't mind that Corporal Ackers was your subordinate, or Sergeant Keller, for that matter."

"They were different," Mustang argued feebly. "They were older."

"They were different because you didn't care about them," she corrected.

Ed waited for a reply, but when it seemed like neither was going to say a word he took a deep breath and opened the door. Mustang and Hawkeye, standing at opposite sides of the room, both snapped their heads toward him as he took a few hesitant steps inside. "I'll see you tomorrow. Edward," Hawkeye nodded her goodbye and strode past him, leaving them alone.

"I forgot-I left my brother's letter," Ed said, after a few long moments.

Mustang took in a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Ed opened his mouth to say more but thought better of it and slipped into Mustang's inner office for a moment. The man hadn't moved an inch when he returned.

"I know you don't think I'm a kid," Ed told him quietly. "You're nothing like Van Vorhis. I know you, Roy, and you're not a pedophile." Mustang visibly winced at the word but didn't meet Ed's eyes and stayed rooted to the spot. "I'll see you in two months," Ed told him and stepped out.

* * *

Briggs was in full motion when Ed arrived. It was always busy, but with winter approaching the soldiers were putting in twelve hour days to prepare for the weather ahead. Ed was one of a handful of transfers that Major General Armstrong had requested, and the highest in rank among those sent.

"I only asked for a few Corporals and they sent you," she had remarked, "at your superior officer's request. You'll still have to bunk with the others, though. No special treatment here."

The fact that Mustang really had put in writing and requested that Ed be sent so far away stung, but Ed didn't have much time to dwell on the thought. Throughout the day, he was too busy on his twelve hour shifts to find time to think about Mustang, and at night he was so tired from the day's work that he passed right out. The only time Ed could unwind even just a little and think about it was in the mornings. He usually woke up well before the rest of the bunk, sweating and shivering and shaking from the night's dreams - images of blood and glowing eyes and destructive arrays.

This morning didn't seem much different when Ed shot up off his bunk, heart hammering as he tried to blink the fog out of his mind. He lay back down slowly, blood pounding as he recognized the room and the light snoring of his bunkmates. Today was different, though. He hadn't been running and there hadn't anything horrific in his dreams. No, Ed closed his eyes, remembering slowly. He had been pounding on Mustang's door, just like he'd done not even two months prior, and Mustang had pulled him inside.

"You can't be here!" Mustang had said, just like he'd done in real life. But the dream-Mustang had continued differently. "You know you can't be seen!" Mustang pushed him against the wall roughly, but Ed didn't fight him.

"They'll all find out eventually, anyways," Ed told him.

Mustang stepped closer-much closer, "Ed," Mustang had shoved a knee between Ed's thighs and wrapped one arm behind the back of his neck to fist it in his hair. Mustang had bent his own head down and Ed could feel his breath on his neck.

"They can't find out," Mustang breathed, and kissed the skin below his jaw. Ed didn't even punch him, he just arched into the touch and into the hard body that was trapping him against that wall.

Ed's eyes snapped open for the second time that morning, blood pounding harder than ever. He lay still for a moment, long enough to realize that he was still the only one awake. He crept into the empty showers, turning the water on hot and leaning against the tile wall. Ed brought himself off quickly and quietly to the thought of his commanding officer in what he didn't know would become a regular fantasy.

Two weeks after he arrived, Ed was called into Armstrong's office at 0800 hours. She looked slightly amused when he stood at attention and saluted at her desk.

"Major Elric," she acknowledged, "You seem to have matured a bit since the last time I've seen you." Ed had no response. "Sit down," she barked, leaning back in her own chair. "You know, I wondered why Mustang sent you here but no matter the reason, I believe this investigation is right up your alley," she told him, tapping a folder on her desk. "You seem to be as good at problem solving as you are at problem-causing."

"I am proficient at both," Ed acknowledged with minimal cheek.

"Yes, well, hopefully you can put your mind to some good use. Soldiers Johnson and Greene made a supply run two days ago and they reported approximately three days worth of provisions missing as well as footprints in the snow. They seemed to be sure that it was the fabled mountain woman, back after all these years." she rolled her eyes.

"I can look into it," Ed told her.

She nodded, picking up the file folder. "I would like a soldier to accompany you. It is not winter yet, but it is still very cold. You have seen the doctor about cold-climate automail, haven't you?"

"Yes, the first day here."

"Good. We don't need a repeat of last time. Sergeant Adler will accompany you outside of this fortress. You will be responsible for him," she handed him the file. "But I suspect he will be responsible for you in actuality. Dismissed, Major."

* * *

Sergeant Adler turned out to be a young soldier. He had seen little of the Amestrian Military other than basic training and the inside of Fort Briggs. Ed thought that he was shy at first, when he met him in the canteen the morning they were set to head out. Adler had greeted him formally and they ate breakfast across from each other with an awkward air between them.

"You done?" Ed asked, mouth still full of the last shovelful of food he'd stuffed in.

"Y-Yes, Sir," he stuffed two more hurried bites down and dumped his tray.

"Don't call me that. Let's go."

"Okay?"

They set off down the supply road on foot and Ed quickly realized that this soldier was far from shy. "So, what can I call you?" he asked.

"Ed. It's Maximillion, right?"

"Ah-only my grandmother calls me that. It's Max," he laughed a little. "So...how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

The soldier almost stopped, and Ed had to slow to let him catch back up to pace. "You're only sixteen? I-I mean, enlistment age is eighteen," he stuttered to add when Ed wheeled around like he was going to bite his head off. "And you're a Major."

"I enlisted at twelve as a state alchemist. I've always been a Major."

"You're the Fullmetal Alchemist, then?" he sounded excited. "That's so cool! I didn't even know you were an alchemist!"

"I'm not," Ed snapped.

Adler once again fell behind in his confusion, but Ed didn't give him any further explanation. "So, what do you think is out here?"

"You mean who," Ed corrected. "And I have no idea."

"Oh. You don't think it's the mountain woman?"

"No," he said simply.

"But I could be, I mean, who else would ever come out here?"

"I am certain that it is not the mountain woman," Ed told him simply.

"Oh, okay." Adler's cheeks looked a little redder, "So, where are you from?"

Ed was beginning to think that Armstrong had sent Adler purely to annoy him when they stopped to set up camp, somewhere near the halfway point between Briggs and North City and as close to the location of the theft as they could approximate. Ed stopped as he saw the signs of dusk approaching and decided that they would camp there.

"Right," Adler said. "We should move at least a few meters from the road. It's supposed to snow tonight, so that and the wind will cover our tracks nicely. We should dig into the snow a bit to pitch the tent and I'm pretty sure we can collect a few fallen branches to disguise it completely."

Ed blinked up at him in surprised. So that's why she'd chosen him. Armstrong must have known that Ed didn't exactly excel in wilderness survival and stealth. "Alright. No fire, though. The smoke will draw attention."

With Adler leading the set-up, it took almost no time before they stood in front of the little mound of branches that was their tent, their prints in the snow surrounding it pretty much the only thing that gave away their camp.

"Let's eat," Ed told him, "We'll start checking the area out in the morning."

* * *

Although Ed had convinced Adler to stop his incessant chatting on the premise of stealth, he was now more frustrated than before. The first day had not turned up a single clue and they had cleared a fairly wide area around their camp. On the second day, as they continued to come up empty-handed, Ed sat down to think.

"What are you-?"

"Shh," Ed growled. "Let me think." Adler nodded silently, and plopped down on a log across from where Ed had hunkered down. "This thief may not even be in the area still," Ed said slowly, "But for our assignment purposes, let's say that this guy hasn't gone anywhere. He took three days worth of food, but that was four days ago now. He's going to be getting hungry."

"Right-"

"Shh." Edward brought his hand up to his chin, thinking. "He took three days worth of a soldier's rations. It was every bit of food they had that wasn't directly on their person. Anyone from North City knows how to fend for themselves out here, and if they were lost they would have woken the soldiers up to get help. He could be a criminal, which would explain why he didn't wake them. That might mean that what he stole is his only source of food. So what if this guy hasn't gone anywhere at all? Rations contain enough calories for a soldier working a long day. If this guy isn't traveling or out hunting for food and shelter, those rations could last him longer than that."

"But why-?"

"Shh." Ed waved a hand at Adler, irritated. "If he isn't used to being out here he could be starting to look for more food and if I was looking for more food, I would stay close to the road, right?" Ed stopped and looked up at Adler, who was nodding silently. "We need to lure him out."

Ed and Sergeant Adler walked nearly the entire way to North City before they stopped and set up camp right next to the road in plain view of any passers-by. They divided their rations, taking a small amount out and putting the remainder in Ed's pack, which he put just outside the tent flap. They settled down early and slept in shifts, although Ed didn't really expect to see their theif.

In the morning, their supplies were still accounted for and they set off down the road with a plan.

"Alright, talk as much as you want," Ed told Adler, shouldering his pack. "Just like the first day. Be as loud as you can to attract attention and we're going to walk as slowly as possible. We should be well past the halfway mark, but not too close to the Fort by this evening if we go slow enough."

"Right."

"You can start talking," Ed repeated offhandedly, after a minute of walking in silence.

"Uh-I mean, what do you-?"

"Anything," Ed sighed. "Sing, if you'd rather. You wouldn't shut up the first day, now you can't think of anything to say?"

Adler laughed a little, embarrassed, but launched into his life-story all the same. "Okay, well, I'm from out East, not far from Greenville. Do you know where that is?"

"Unfortunately," Ed snapped, groaning inwardly.

"Oh-Uh-well…" Ed sighed and tuned him out, listening with only half his attention. He definitely hadn't needed any reminders of his visit to that particular town. "...I have a little brother, too," he heard Adler say, after a few minutes, "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Yeah, a little brother," Ed replied absently.

The soldier smiled and continued chatting happily for hours, only stopping when they stopped to eat lunch. "...I joined because I heard that the government is working toward being better, to help people and not just to fight, although I guess I could do that too if the country needed to be protected. I imagined that I'd be helping people, though, not mopping floors and doing laundry."

"You're only a Sergeant. In Briggs, I've seen men as high as a Lieutenant assigned to knocking icicles down."

Adler's face fell. "I'm never going to get to do anything, then," he complained. "I don't really mind Briggs, but it's not what I thought I'd be doing. All the other guys from basic told me I'd gotten the worst assignment anyone could have gotten when I was sent here. I think they sent me because I was the worst cadet in my class. I don't think it's terrible here but I kind of wish I could see some excitement or something," he sighed.

"Hmm, I think you're looking at it the wrong way," Ed said after a moment of contemplation. "Briggs isn't a punishment. It's hard work here, and it's really tedious-"

"And the food is awful," Adler interjected as Ed paused.

"That too," he admitted, "But Briggs is where the best soldiers in this entire Military are stationed. If you can hack it up here, you can handle any other assignment they give you. Maybe you think you were the worst cadet, but if Armstrong didn't want you here, you would have been on a train by now. She doesn't take shit from anyone and she won't take anyone but the best. They must have seen potential in you, like your survival skills, maybe?" Ed suggested.

"Oh," he mulled over the thought. "I never looked at it like that."

"Maybe they saw that they weren't using your talents to their fullest," Ed suggested further. "Maybe that's why they sent you here to make sure I didn't freeze or starve to death."

Adler's face brightened, "Yeah...Hey, you're right!"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Ed told him, "I usually am right."

Ed and Adler set up their tent right next to the road again, and once again, Ed stowed some of his rations in the bag outside the tent. Adler took first watch, but woke Ed up after a couple of hours with no sign of their theif. Ed sat up for another couple of hours, reciting the elements drawing arrays in his mind, and nibbling on a piece of candy to help keep himself awake in the dark and quiet of their tent. When he found himself nodding off, Ed finally poked Adler in the side and they switched again. Ed let his head hit the pillow and was out cold in no time.

It was a hand on his shoulder that woke Ed up. Adler shook him gently, quietly, and covered Ed's mouth with his hand until Ed opened his eyes and saw him holding a finger to his lips.

Ed stayed completely still, listening. He heard the snow crunching outside, barely audible, uneven footsteps on the road. Their visitor was moving slowly and carefully. Ed stayed perfectly still, holding up a hand for Adler to do the same as they waited for the person outside to come closer. Ed waited until he heard the man take one...two...three steps away from the road towards their tent before he locked eyes with Adler. He pointed to Adler, then the tent flap, and held up three fingers, two fingers, four steps...one finger, and pointed, springing up. Adler tore the tent open and Ed ran out, jumping on the figure that was crouched down in the snow. Ed took an elbow to the face but held on and kept his weight on the man's back, keeping him subdued until Adler had cuffed his hands and ankles.

"Who are you?"

"Please!" the man started to hyperventilate, tears brimming over his wide eyes. "Please don't hurt me! I didn't know-I didn't mean to-I don't want to die out here!"

Ed and Sergeant Adler walked on either side of the man, escorting him all the way back to Briggs in the dark. It was only as the sun began to rise that the Wall of Briggs came into view ahead of them. A soldier spotted them and within the hour Ed was showered and properly dressed, sitting in Armstrong's office as he waited for her to finish questioning the thief. Ed had just started to nod off a bit when the woman's voice was heard outside the door. Ed straightened up before she came into the office, Miles at her heel.

"Good, you're here," she took a seat behind her desk and motioned for Miles to sit in the chair next to Ed. "We believe that this man has been no more than a petty criminal, at least until recently. Is there a particular reason why you requested that you would be the one to interrogate him?"

"I believe I'm already familiar with some of the details of this case. This guy didn't manage to say much coherently on the trip here, but from what I was able to gather, he'd involved with a massive crime ring. You-you heard about VanVorhis?"

"I did," Armstrong said coldly.

"I think this guy was working for the same people he was- well, buying off of," Ed said, for lack of better wording. "I was also captured in West City.

"Yes, I heard that Mustang went running in after you," she scoffed. "The cases are related?"

"I believe so. We might be able to get enough out of this guy to take down this enterprise."

Armstrong considered it for a moment, and said, "Fine. You do the interrogation. First, get some sleep. Neither you or this thief is going to be any good if you're this tired. Besides, maybe after he gets a little shut-eye he'll stop crying and actually be able to talk to us."

* * *

"Ken," Ed pulled the door shut behind him and stepped into the bare room. Their thief sat at a table in the middle looking miserable but no longer the sobbing and hysterical mess he'd been on the journey back to Briggs. "I am Major Elric. I need you to answer some questions for me. Let's start with how you got here. You're from East City, correct?"

"Yes. I-well, I sort of took odd jobs in East City, you see."

"You were a thief," Ed corrected bluntly. "Continue," he added, when the man didn't respond.

"Right. Well, I did what I had to do, but I never did anything really bad. I never stole from kids, never from people who needed things. Who's going to miss one little loaf of bread missing from the entire bakery, anyways?"

"Continue," Ed pressed, annoyed already.

"Ah-yes, like I said, I was doing little jobs, but a friend of mine told me about his new employer, and he started getting me gigs. I was delivering little stuff at first. I didn't even know what was in the packages, and I didn't have to take payment or anything. Their customers paid beforehand somehow and I never had to argue over money or anything. I picked stuff up, dropped it off, and got a regular paycheck sent to my house. After a little while they started sending me farther from the city and I was delivering bigger stuff. Eventually I was driving a truck across the country once every week or two, always a different vehicle. They paid me even better. The last job they sent me was a customer delivery."

"You got a promotion?"

"Yeah. I was going to be paid three times as much to deliver to this guy's house. I picked up a crate-found the guy easily enough. It was a house out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere outside of North City. I wheeled the thing into the guy's house but he wouldn't let me leave until he 'inspected the goods.'"

"What was in the box, Ken?"

The thief looked up, his eyes desperate. "It was a fucking kid."

"A boy?"

He nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. This 'customer' looked pretty happy but I asked him what he was going to do to the kid and he just said he was gonna 'have a little fun'. I don't know exactly what kind of sick creep he was, but I grabbed a statue from his hallway and knocked the guy out. I-I don't know if he was...alive or-"

"We will find out," Ed told him. "What did you do with the kid?"

"Well, he was heavy, really heavy for such a small guy. They had him sedated, but he had started to wake up a little. I carried him back to the truck and hauled out of that place as fast as I could. I stopped at a little town called Harmony and left the kid at the church. He was awake by then, you know. My employer's guys caught up to me in North City. They threw me around a little and dumped me in this godforsaken forest. I think my foot's broken."

"They didn't expect you to survive," Ed told him.

"If it hadn't been for those soldiers, I wouldn't have," he said soberly.

"Did you get the boy's name?"

"No," the man shook his head. "But he told me-he said they had done things to him. A 'try before you buy'." he looked like he was going to be sick.

"The kid - what did he look like?"

Ken put his hand up beside him, palm facing the floor, "This high, really light hair-curly."

"Hector," Ed breathed a sigh of mixed horror and relief.

* * *

When Ed returned to Central a few days later, he found Mustang standing outside the main entrance to Headquarters.

"Hey, you're here late."

"Oh," Mustang caught sight of Ed coming up the stairs. "Hector's mother just picked him up. Hawkeye is dropping them off on her way home."

"That's nice of her," Ed commented.

Mustang nodded, sighing. "Want to come upstairs and talk?"

Ed almost rolled his eyes at the way Mustang phrased it, but followed him anyways. Neither of them spoke until they were in Mustang's office.

"I think I owe you an explanation," Mustang leaned against the front of the desk, putting himself a few steps away from where Ed had stopped. "I didn't mean to be so hard on you, but I thought-" Mustang struggled to say the words, "I thought if you weren't around it might be easier on myself." Ed's pulse quickened. "It was unfair to you, and to be perfectly honest, keeping you away was never going to make a difference."

"You-you're a ladies' man," Ed frowned. "You've never shown any interest in anyone but the sluttiest and prettiest girls in the city."

"That's not true," Mustang said quietly. "Most of the girls I date I'm not even really interested in. They're just dates. I can't hold a conversation them. And I can't say that I've never been interested in a man before."

"You-?"

Mustang sighed. "He was smart and funny and...hopelessly in love with a woman."

"You're not talking about Hughes, are you?"

He just laughed a little. "No, not that hopeless. But I never would have pursued it either way. I just-I always thought that one day I'd find a woman who was smart and funny and beautiful and strong all rolled up into one perfect package and we would fall in love. Is that silly?"

Ed bit his bottom lip uncertainly, "You have Lieutenant Hawkeye."

Mustang nodded, "And she is everything I could ever ask for in a woman or in a wife-except that I'm not in love with her. I won't lie, I've thought about it. I could ask her to marry me, but I feel like...like…"

"Like she deserves the one, and not just someone?"

"Yeah," Mustang blinked, meeting Ed's eyes for a moment, questioningly.

"Winry," Ed said simply.

"Ah."

"So," Ed said slowly, "This ideal woman. Is she as perfect as your ideal government?"

"No," Mustang answered. "Better. Although...I never expected that my ideal woman would be a man fourteen years my junior." Ed had no response but a sharp intake of breath. "Ed, I honestly never meant for you to find out. Ever," he added. "Definitely not while you were still my sixteen year old subordinate and certainly not by overhearing it, but I won't insult your intelligence by ignoring you now that you know."

Ed was silent for a very long minute. "Why," he asked finally, "Why did you intend on never telling me this?"

"I didn't think I could handle the rejection," he answered softly.

"And if I reciprocated?"

Mustang's eyes were almost pleading, "Ed, don't say that-"

"Had you honestly never even considered the possibility?" Ed stepped closer.

"No, Ed. I hadn't. Please...don't make me think that this is something I can actually have." Ed swallowed nervously, taking another step into his commanding officer's personal space. "My career- I - I don't-" he pleaded incoherently.

Ed took the last step up to where he was chest to chest with Mustang and brought one hand up behind his neck. "I wouldn't say no," he breathed, barely audible.

"Ed," he rasped. "Sex isn't what I want from you."

"It's not what I want either. Not the only thing I want," he corrected and stepped back, his face red, ears burning and pulse pounding. Mustang was holding his breath and didn't seem to trust himself to speak. "I'll see you on Monday, General," Ed said finally, and stepped away slowly.

Mustang didn't respond and he didn't move for a very long time after the door shut.

* * *

Ed was in Resembool the following Wednesday, just in time to sit down to dinner with Granny, Al, Winry, and Jonathan.

"So how did you get home from Briggs so early, Brother?" Al asked.

"We caught this one guy. He knew something about another set of cases I've been trying to piece together. Busted this big crime ring," Ed shoved a forkful of potatoes in his mouth and kept talking, "Twenty-some people arrested, a few more charged as accomplices."

"You've been working hard, then?" Granny frowned at his table manners.

Ed shrugged. "General Thompson called me in on Monday. He says as soon as I reach the age of enlistment I can expect a decent promotion. He also thinks I should learn to drive, though, so what does he know?"

"You - drive?" Winry laughed. "These Military guys should know better than anyone how much damage you can cause when you aren't even armed, much less behind the wheel of a vehicle."

"Hey!"

"Would you even be able to see over the dash?" Winry smirked.

"Who are you calling short" Ed seethed. Winry just grinned.

"Well, you'll be seventeen next month," Al said. "And you'll still be a year away from enlistment age."

Ed nodded, "I can't be promoted until then, though. Apparently the Military has a problem with 'endangering' underage soldiers. What a load. I'm the only underage soldier they have. Sounds like an excuse not to give me a raise, if you ask me."

After dinner, Al approached outside, where he was sitting on the hillside, looking out into the dark valley.

"Brother?" Ed leaned back against the ground, looking over to where Al stood. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he shrugged.

Al paused. "Maybe I should have asked who are you thinking about?"

Ed opened his mouth to deny the teasing accusation, but sighed instead. "Doesn't matter."

"Oh? Is it someone you met in Central? You said you were interested in somebody last time you came to visit."

"Did I? You must have heard me wrong."

Al just laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll get it out of you one of these days, though. Jonathan was looking for you, anyways. I think that's him coming out here now."

Ed stood up, watching his brother walk back up to the porch, passing the dark figure that was Jonathan on his way up. The man slowed as he neared Ed.

"Hey."

"Hey," Ed returned awkwardly. "Al said you were looking for me?"

"Yeah." Jonathan wiped the palm of his good hand on the front of his pants, but didn't seem to be elaborating.

"Did you...need something?"

"Ah-I don't know how to say this," he put a hand behind his head and scratched the back of his neck. "I've already asked Al and Granny earlier today, but I wanted to wait until you came back because I don't think I could-if I didn't ask you-" Ed raised his eyebrows as Jonathan stopped talking and seemed to recollect himself. "I would like to ask your permission," he finally got out, nervous and smiling. "I'd like to ask Winry to marry me."

Ed was surprised, but smiled genuinely. "I can't think of anyone better."

Jonathan let out a long breath, laughing a little giddily. "Thank you, Edward."

Ed held out a hand and shook. "I know she'll say yes."

"I hope so," Jonathan grinned nervously. "I have the ring-I'm going to do it tonight."

* * *

When Ed returned to Central to receive his next assignment, he felt weighed down by the massive amount of food he'd consumed and by his own muscles, sore from helping Jonathan lay floorboards and frame out the walls of his farmhouse for most of the visit. Ed greeted Hawkeye in the outer office, stopping only briefly to talk to her about Winry's engagement. When he sunk into Mustang's couch, he wasn't sure what he had been expecting from the man, but he had not expected a normal conversation.

"Ed," he looked up from his paperwork.

"Hey."

"You look tired as hell."

"Yeah, I was helping Winry's new fiancee build a house."

"I heard the news. Tell her congratulations for me when you see her again," he smiled, starting to riffle through the mess of paperwork on his desk.

"Sure."

"Did you hear that our unit is going to be participating in this fall's war games?"

"We have never participated before," Ed furrowed his brow. "Why bother now?"

"Well, we've all had other things to focus on in the years prior so I have always avoided volunteering the unit. This year I don't see any reason not to go. Besides, we have been invited to join the East in the joint exercises against the North this winter."

"So you want to beat Armstrong's ass and show your superiors what a good General you make," Ed translated out of politi-speak.

"I'd also like Hawkeye to teach you how to drive when you're in-between assignments," he added lightly.

"You want me to drive?"

Mustang grimaced. "Yes?" he answered uncertainly. "Here," he handed Ed a small folder. "General Thompson sent this assignment down at the end of last week. I'm pretty sure he meant for it to end up in your hands."

"Why would you say that?"

"You seem to have a specialty in dealing with bribery and corruption within the Military."

Ed's eyes skimmed the page. "I see...Who the fuck keeps assigning the guys who have absolutely no concept of moral values to the poorest and most desperate towns?"

"We have a bit too heavy of a military presence there, anyways," Mustang hinted. "I'm sure you'll do what's best. Do try to keep the collateral to a minimum, though."

"It's an unfortunate consequence of utilizing my specialty ," Ed smirked.

Mustang sighed. "I'll see you in a week or so," he said by way of dismissal, and Ed stepped out of the office without even slamming the door.

* * *

Ed's assignments continued on as normally as he could have expected, and his reports to Mustang surprisingly more normal than usual, if a civilized conversation between them could be considered normal. Ed had finished driving practice with Hawkeye without getting shot, and had frantically but politely declined her offer of shooting lessons. Currently, Ed was on his way back from Eastern Command Headquarters, where he had dropped off the political hot-shot he'd been assigned to escort. Ed hurried back to the train station and just managed to get a ticket back to Central. He found what he presumed to be the last empty seat in the very first and very loudest car and settled in with a book.

Usually Ed didn't pay much attention to the world around him while he was reading, but the noise of the engine combined with the long and boring day proved to be too much of a distraction. Ed had resorted to staring out the window instead by the time the train picked up full speed. Around the first turn coming out of East City, Ed saw something fly off the top of the train-a shoe? He blinked, however, and it was lost in the fields. Ed frowned, looking around at the other passengers, none of whom seemed to have noticed the shoe or much of anything past the back of their eyelids. Ed stood up, stretched a little and with a last glance around the car slipped out the door to the engine cars.

Ed stepped onto the platform between the cars and hauled himself up onto the roof.

"Ah!" A body jumped and lost balance, shifting toward the edge of the roof.

Ed's eyes widened a fraction, but he reached out a hand and pulled the startled kid back to the middle. The kid looked terrified. He couldn't have been more than ten years old, his hair long and uncut, plastered behind his head by the wind.

"What are you doing up here?"

The boy's eyes darted around wildly. "You don't work for the train," he said slowly, taking in Ed's clothes.

"No but I saw your shoe and thought I should check out what was going on up here," Ed told him flatly, eyeing the boy's bare left foot.

"Oh."

"You didn't pay for a ticket, did you?"

He looked down, biting his lip anxiously. "I didn't have the money, but it's really important! The police won't listen to me, so I'm going straight to the Military!"

"The Military?"

"Yeah, they took my dad!"

"Why did the military take your dad?" Ed asked.

"They said he was 'in-site-ing a polly-tic-ole riot."

"Inciting a political riot?" Ed frowned, thinking that perhaps the kid wasn't quite as old as he'd originally guessed.

"Yes-that's it. He said the Military had no right to take over the factory," the boy said with conviction.

"What town are you from?"

"Leesville."

"I've never heard of it." Ed sighed. "Look, my name is Major Edward Elric. Call me Ed. Why don't you come down to sit with me and I'll get you something to eat off the dining car."

When Ed got to the next station, he picked up the payphone and dialed Mustang's office.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," her familiar voice was stern and concise.

"Hey, it's Ed. Can I talk to Mustang?"

"Oh, yeah," her tone softened, and she put him on hold. It was a few moments before Mustang picked back up.

"Ed?"

"Mustang," he returned. "Does the Military control a factory in the far East, in a town called Leesville?"

Mustang hesitated. "Not that I've ever heard of."

"I found a kid on the train, trying to get to Central because he said the Military recently took over and factory and arrested his father for 'inciting a political riot'. The kid says they manufacture cars."

"Cars? All Military vehicles are produced out of a facility in the South."

"Hm," Ed frowned on his end of the line. "I'm going to send the kid to Central. His name is Viktor."

"Fullmetal, you can't just send a kid alone-"

"I found him up on the roof of a speeding train. He'll be fine. I'm going to go check this place out. I'll call," Ed said, and hung up.

* * *

"Sir?" Ed opened his eyes and glanced up at the door. A man stood there in his dusty old clothes, his appearance matching the dirty little run-down shack around him. "They're here. Half a mile from the south gate."

"Good. You know what to do, Paul."

"Of course," the man said. "Please be careful, Sir."

Ed shrugged on a black coat and pulled his recently-dyed dark hair away from his face. "You too. Don't forget the signal."

He nodded and gave an untrained salute before he disappeared out the open door and into the night. Ed followed, weaving between buildings and sticking close to the fenceline when he reached the perimeter of town. He didn't see any sign of the guards.

He found Mustang's team assembled just down the road. There were six trucks loaded with soldiers plus a few who stood watching guard. The Brigadier-General stood in the middle of the road, watching for both their signal and for Ed's arrival.

"Mustang," Ed announced himself. "It's me."

A gloved hand motioned not to fire. "Fullmetal, going for a different look?"

"Thought I'd be a little less conspicuous. Our civilian informant, Paul, is getting the townspeople out of the way. He should be sending a flare any minute."

Mustang nodded, watching the sky carefully. "You're in the cab with me. There's a weapon and rounds waiting for you there."

It didn't take long for the tail of a flare to be seen over the village, and Mustang's order of "Move out!" to ring out. Ed and Mustang jumped into the frontmost truck and Hawkeye, in the driver's seat, hit the gas.

"Directions," Hawkeye barked, nearing the first few rows of houses.

"Straight up this road, right at the intersection," Ed supplied, watching the trucks in their rear-view mirror. The last one had pulled to the side of the road and the men had split up to cover the perimeter fence. Their own vehicle barreled on, civilians peeking out windows to watch them. Ed remembered that not all of the townspeople knew what was going on yet-some of them probably thought that they were from the same corrupt 'military' that had taken over their village and lives.

Ed didn't really have much time to think about it, though. The truck sped around the turn toward the bosses' quarters and they were stopping right in front of the 'Commander's' unit. The other trucks came to a stop on both sides of them and Ed noted that there were several soldiers behind the buildings, on the other side of the fence.

Mustang stepped out first and motioned for the other soldiers to disembark. In moments, there were forty men in position and Mustang brought out a bullhorn.

"FOREMEN!" Mustang's voice thundered out of the horn. "ALL FACTORY FOREMEN COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR IMPERSONATION OF MILITARY OFFICERS."

There was quiet, then lights turning on. Faces peered out at them from between curtains before the doors slowly began to start opening.

Ed looked up and down the row of 'officers' handcuffed against the building, and sent up another flare to signal Paul that it was safe to come out.

What Ed hadn't expected was for Paul to bring half the village with him. They stood in the road, anxiously waiting to hear what was going on.

"We have twenty-two in custody. Does that sound right?"

"Yes, that should be all of them."

"Good. The plan is that some of our men are going to stay to help you guys out for a while, if that's alright with you. I know that your town may not be very keen on having Military guys around, but they want to make sure that everything gets back up and running like it's supposed to. Trust me when I tell you that they won't be sticking around like those guys did. There is a supply truck on its way too with food, clothing, the basics," Ed told him.

Mustang came up behind Ed while he was speaking. "That's right. I'm sorry it took so long for us to intervene."

"And I'm sorry we thought that those guys were with you." Mustang shook Paul's hand. "I think that the rest of the village will agree with me-we would be very grateful if the real military stuck around for a bit."

* * *

"Mustang," Ed called out quietly, standing close to the tent flap. "Mustang! Let me in," Ed frowned, listening for any sign of the commanding officer. Ed didn't hear anything, but he wasn't all that surprised. They had been working all day to help Leesville get back to running itself smoothly and most of the soldiers were dead tired.

Ed sighed and set his bag down on the ground so that he could fiddle with the tent flap. He just managed to get it open and poke his head in when he heard click of Mustang's fingers snapping as a bare hand grabbed his collar. Ed was pulled forward as a flame illuminated Mustang's face for just a split second before the fire went out.

"Ed," Mustang breathed into the pitch black, letting him go. In the dark, they stood so close that Ed could feel his breath, hot against his skin. "What are you doing here?" Ed heard Mustang swallow and suck in a shaky breath, and suddenly he forgot just what he was doing here.

"I-I uh...I just wanted you to help me with something," Ed managed. There was a sharp intake of breath, and another snap that made Ed jump, but Mustang had only lit the kerosene lamp in the corner.

"What did you need help with?" Mustang asked, more composedly. He stepped away and Ed realized that he was mostly bare, wearing only a pair of blue shorts. Ed didn't answer until Mustang had pulled on a pair of pants.

"My hair," Ed pulled his eyes away from Mustang's chest. "I'm sorry I'm so late, I didn't expect it to take me so long to find everything." Ed ducked out of the tent and grabbed the bag he'd left on the ground. "I have all of the ingredients, I'll draw the circle."

"You...you want me to activate a circle to get the dye out of your hair?" Mustang groggily worked out what exactly Ed was asking of him.

Ed sighed. "Look, I'd do it myself if I could-"

"No, no...It's fine, Ed," Mustang assured him, then chuckled a little. "I didn't realize you cared so much about your appearance, is all."

"I had to blend in-no one else in this village has light hair." Ed rolled his eyes and unpacked everything. He pointedly did not look at Mustang or his bare chest as he drew the circle on the ground. Mustang watched, sleepy but curious as Ed drew.

"Your own formula," Mustang acknowledged, getting down on his knees beside Ed as he placed his ingredients in a bowl and set them inside the circle.

"Yes."

"I'm glad to see you aren't wasting your talents," Mustang said. 'Just because you lost your alchemy' went unsaid, but Ed understood it perfectly.

Mustang pulled his ignition glove off and activated the circle, then sat back and watched as Ed stripped off his shirt and dipped his head in the bowl, the liquid dripping off to reveal his natural blonde.

"Here," Mustang retrieved a towel from the foot of his bed and wrapped it around Ed's hair. Ed reached up to towel off his hair, giving Mustang a perfect view of the muscles in his back and arms.

"Thanks," Ed turned back around and hung the towel on the foot of Mustang's cot.

"Anytime. You look better as a blonde, anyways," Mustang said. After a long moment, he sighed. "If someone walked in right now, this wouldn't look good."

Ed shrugged. "It looks pretty good from where I'm standing."

"Ed-"

"Roy," Ed stepped closer to him, but Mustang stepped back. Ed's face flashed with hurt. "What are you so afraid of? That I'm too young? That I'm going to ruin your career? What?"

Mustang shook his head. "No…"

"Then what?" Ed asked again, more gently. He took another step forward, and Mustang didn't move this time.

"Ed, I don't give a flying fuck about my career. It's you I'm worried about. If people found out, you could be discharged. People will talk. Your reputation-"

"I don't care about my fucking reputation. They can say anything they want. Besides, we could be discreet. There's no reason to fuck up your chances of becoming Fuhrer."

"Ed," Mustang shook his head. "I couldn't ask you to keep a secret like that-"

"You don't have to ask me to. I'd do it anyways."

Mustang seemed to be at odds with himself. He swallowed. "I'm old-"

"Don't care."

"I'm your boss-"

"Don't care," Ed shook his head.

"I-"

"Shut up," Ed wrapped his hand around the back of Roy's neck, pulling him in. Ed kissed him slowly, but it didn't take Roy long to reciprocate and for his warm hands to snake around Ed's back. Ed forced himself into composure and pulled away, stroking the line of Mustang's jaw with his fingertips. Mustang kissed his fingers before Ed let the hand fall to his side. "I'll see you in the morning, Roy."

Mustang hummed in sleepy agreement with a hint of disappointment.

"Goodnight," Ed said. "Thank you."

"'Night, Ed," he answered quietly.

* * *

Ed scratched his neck where his collar hit and scowled. "This is ridiculous." He sat outside of General Thompson's office, Mustang next to him.

"It's just a uniform. Some of us wear it on a daily basis. Suck it up for ten minutes," Mustang told him.

"Oh, you can suck it," Ed muttered.

Mustang raised an eyebrow at him wordlessly and flicked his eyes down Ed's body and back up to Ed's flushed face just as the door opened. A young Sergeant told them to go on in.

"Gentlemen," Thompson greeted them with a smile. "Come in. At ease. I was just reading your reports. Your squadron does some amazing work, Mustang. And Major, what a sharp eye-this entire bust, all started because you saw a shoe?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You do have a knack, Major," Thompson leaned back in his chair. "I will admit, when Mustang brought you out of the East, I was opposed to letting you enlist. I thought that you were too young, that the Military would be too harsh on a boy of such a young age- I didn't think you could handle it. But," he smiled a little. "I couldn't be happier to be proven wrong." The man lulled for a moment. "Major, I expect that you will receive a fairly generous promotion once you come of age. You'll be promoted to at least a Colonel, if I have anything to say about it. I wonder, though, what type of work you'd want to be doing? I cannot see you content to sit in an office."

"I would like to remain in the field, Sir." Ed agreed. "I feel that I am better suited to doing things hands-on."

"As I would expect, Major. You are the People's Alchemist, after all. Have you thought much about your future with the Military?"

"Not really, Sir," Ed responded stiffly. "And I am not an Alchemist."

"Ah-unfortunate, that. I forget. No matter," Thompson clapped his hands together. "I can see what a valuable soldier you've become. I'm sure you weren't so mature only a year ago. Anyways, I merely wanted to get a feel for your long-term goals. I'm hoping to help steer your career in whichever direction you'd like it to lead you."

"Thank you for your concern. Continuing my current line of responsibility would be ideal," Ed told him diplomatically.

"Then I will do everything I can to make that happen. Good work, men. Dismissed."

Ed and Mustang walked together to the elevator and waited until the doors closed before they spoke.

"So they have plans for you," Mustang commented.

"Do you think that Thompson will truly keep my own interests in mind?" Ed asked doubtfully.

Mustang just frowned. "I am uncertain. His endgame is not to become Fuhrer- He knows that he is too old to try for it now. I believe that he is trying to retire as a respected figure with a solid reputation at this point. He will place you wherever he thinks you'll make him look the best. Likely, your interests and his will lead you to the same line of work, anyways."

"Sound familiar?" Ed smirked.

"If I wanted you to make me look better, I wouldn't keep sending you out to rack up collateral damage, Fullmetal. Despite that, you still do improve my image."

"Was that actually a compliment?"

Mustang glanced over just as the elevator bumped to a stop. "Don't let it go to your head. See you on Wednesday."

"See you then, General."

* * *

Once again Ed was surprised at how normal his interactions with Mustang remained. Wednesday's meeting, a simple formality to finish paperwork and payroll, was as oddly civilized as the last few weeks had been. Ed was given an assignment and a check. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred until the following week, when Ed came in to turn in his latest report.

"Fullmetal," Mustang acknowledged, standing up to greet him at the door. Ed narrowed his eyes at the man suspiciously but all Mustang did was close the door and return to his desk.

Even more suspicious now,especially since the anteroom was empty, Ed sat opposite him and threw his report on the desk. "Here. Five pages," he smirked.

Mustang flipped it open and sighed. "Five pieces of paper, but hardly three pages." Regardless, he signed the last page and threw it into a stack to this right.

"So, got anything else for me?"

Mustang dug through a different stack and pulled a folder. "Starts tomorrow afternoon. It's pretty straightforward, should take about a week."

Ed took the file and stuffed it into his jacket. "Alright."

Mustang hesitated and Ed glanced at the closed door, seeing the open opportunity. "You'll be free this evening, then?" Mustang asked quietly.

"I will."

"I'll be out of here around five."

"I'll see you then," Ed told him simply.

Ed was browsing through Mustang's library when he heard the man come in. He heard a few cautious footsteps, then, "Hello?"

"Hello," Ed answered. He went to the doorway and leaned against the frame as Mustang kicked off his boots and hung his jacket.

"Ed," he smiled. "You've found the library, then?"

"I have. You have an awful lot of fiction, you know," Ed told him with distaste.

"Yes, I do enjoy a good novel. Everything you'd like is in the back."

Ed held up the volume in his hands. "Found that too. Manipulation of Elements in the Gaseous State. Sounds a bit like the foundation to Flame Alchemy to me. Very dangerous stuff, Roy. You don't really do all that zen stuff-meditation and junk though, do you?"

Mustang laughed. "If I didn't do that zen junk, I'd blow up everything in sight. I don't have to tell you how much flammable gas surrounds us. It takes a lot of concentration to hit my mark."

"And yet, the interesting thing is that you don't even need to light the spark. You can knock someone out, even kill them, just by restricting their oxygen."

"It is difficult, but possible if conditions are right. So yes, I could, but where's the showmanship in that, Ed?"

Ed rolled his eyes and returned the book to its rightful place. "So, you have something to eat?"

"I ordered take-out. It should be here soon. You like Xingese?"

"Never tried it. As long as it doesn't have milk."

"No milk," Mustang assured him. "It's good, actually. Spicy."

"And," Ed walked back around the shelves to stand closer to Mustang. "What else did you have planned for tonight?"

Mustang's eyes darkened. "Nothing in particular," he said. The doorbell rang then, and Mustang stepped into the hallway for a moment to collect their dinner and pay the delivery man.

"Come on, let's eat," Mustang jerked his head toward the kitchen and dumped the steaming paper cartons onto the countertop.

"If I'd known Xingese was that good, I would have gone to visit Ling a long time ago." Ed settled into the couch in the library and eyed Mustang as he sank into the cushion beside him.

"Maybe your brother will learn to cook some while he travels?"

"Hopefully-wait, how do you know he's planning to travel to Xing?"

"He's been writing me," Mustang said simply. "He seemed to think that he should join the Military."

"I told him not to."

"So did I. He also sent me the invitation to Winry's wedding with his most recent letter. They're going for sooner, rather than later, I see?"

"Uh-I may not have checked the mail lately," Ed admitted. "What's the date?"

"The last day of fall. I'll make sure that you're not on assignment that week."

"Thanks. You going?"

Mustang nodded. "Yes, I think so. I owe it to her. Hawkeye will be going too, of course."

"Riza will probably be her maid of honor."

Mustang nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised."

Ed stretched, propping his feet up on Mustang's lap as they continued their small-talk and eventually lulled into comfortable silence.

"Ed?"

"Hm?"

"I've been wondering…"

"What?"

Mustang took a deep breath and searched Ed's face for a reaction "I don't mean to bring it up, but if we're going to be-whatever this is-" Ed sat up a little. "I know that you were with that man, Vince. You said-you said that he was your first? I just-first what, exactly?"

Ed didn't blow up like Mustang had half-expected. Instead he sighed. "Well, he was my first kiss, first relationship of any sort. And he was the first person who ever-" Ed hesitated, "Touched me," he settled on.

"You never-?"

"We never had sex," Ed confirmed. "But I won't lie, we did quite a bit with hands-even mouths, once."

Mustang was surprised at how unembarrassed he was about it. "You know I'm far from a virgin, Ed, but I've never actually been with a man. When the time comes, I'm not sure if I'd like being…being on the bottom?" he worded awkwardly.

"You'll like it if you try it," Ed said quietly, meeting Mustang's surprised eyes.

"You just said you never-?" Ed just held up a couple of fingers and grinned, which made Mustang laugh. "Right, right."

"You've been with a lot of women," Ed said next.

"I have," he lowered his eyes. "I don't have anything, though."

Ed chuckled. "Good. I was worried the name Colonel Clap might have had some basis in truth."

Mustang sputtered. "Who-?"

"Everyone. Everyone but Riza anyways."

"Bastards," he scowled.

Ed just laughed and kissed the scowl right off the man's face.


End file.
